Neglected Space
by TStabler
Summary: There are parts of our lives we ignore, parts of our memory & mind we wish did not exist, & parts of our hearts we keep in the dark. It keeps us from the hurt & pain we want so desperately to avoid. Detective Olivia Benson has more than her share of secrets, her new partner has demons of his own. Soon they see the only person who can reach that neglected space, is each other. EO
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A new one, from the start, that takes things slow and slightly different from my "norm." No Eli, Maureen - 10, Kathleen - 8, Twins - 6, and Olivia? She's new here. ;)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"Pisces," a pretty dark-skinned woman in a tan and brown suit mumbled, bringing a foam cup to her lips.

An older man, thin and drawn, shook his head as he peered over at someone across the room over his thin-framed glasses. "Capricorn," he whispered, staring as a young brunette typed something into her computer.

"No way," the woman replied, shaking her head. Tight auburn curls swung around her face as she moved, and she sipped her coffee again. "She's got all the classic characteristics of a water sign."

The brunette, smirking, popped her head up and brushed her hair out of her eyes with one finger. "I'm an Aquarius," she told the two people who'd been debating her zodiac, and she leaned back and crossed her arms over her thin, blue sweater. "It's an air sign, but thanks for playing."

Monique Jeffries let out a small snort, and said, "Distinguishing traits are helping others, fighting for strong causes, a penchant for intellectual conversation, and...running from emotional situations." She sipped her coffee with a darker smirk and a more narrow gaze. "That true? We find your weakness, Benson?"

Olivia Benson, that was her name, squinted a bit. Yeah, she had a crippling fear of commitment, and a habit of running from relationships when they got too serious. It's one of the reasons she became a cop, volunteering with a unit that never stopped running. But that was something she never told anyone, and she was certainly not going to give that kind of ammunition to people she'd only met a few hours ago. "No," she lied stone-faced, making the denial truth. "You buy into all of that?"

"My horoscope is always right," Jeffries stated, throwing her empty cup into a trash can by her metal desk. "So's Stabler's."

Olivia furrowed her brow. "Who?"

The older, more weathered man, chuckled. "Your partner, Elliot Stabler. He'll be here in about five minutes or so, always fashionably late."

Jeffries chuckled. "If that's what you want to call it, Munch," she rolled her eyes and plopped into the rolling chair behind her desk. She picked up a pen and a stapled stack of papers, leaned back, and tried to get some of her paperwork done.

"Stabler, huh? That name...sounds familiar," Olivia hummed and bit her lip.

"Maybe you read it in the paper, or saw him on the news," Munch told her as he, too, sat down and rolled his computer mouse around, waking up the machine. "He's the face of this unit, gets all of the high-profile shit." He gave Olivia a smile. "Cragen doesn't think I'm pretty enough for that gig."

Olivia laughed, resuming her typing, and cleared her throat. "What, um...what happened to his partner? The guy I'm...I guess, I'm replacing?"

Jeffries scoffed and shot her a look. "He was a waste of space, and trust me, I'm sure you're gonna be a better cop and a better partner than he was, even if you suck."

"Well, uh, thanks," Olivia said dryly. She raised an eyebrow but let the subject drop, and turned back to the monitor. "How the hell long is this thing? I feel like I'm taking the fucking SATs."

Munch tugged on his suit jacket and told her, "They need to know everything about you, even shit you don't know about yourself."

"Yeah," Olivia whispered, staring up at the form, wincing at the blank spaces. Father's name, father's date of birth, and a slew of other personal information that she couldn't fill in, because she really didn't know. "I got that."

Loud and heavy footsteps echoed from the hall, then, and a tall, well built man in a black suit ran into the room. He pulled on his blue tie, wheezing slightly, and shot an apologetic glance in Munch's direction. "Sorry, I'm sorry," he panted. "Had a little trouble getting Lizzie and Dickie on the bus this morning, and Kathleen wouldn't go to school without her red sweater, which was stained, so I spent fifteen minutes…" he stopped talking as his head turned, his eyes flickered with something that hadn't arisen in him in over a decade, and he licked his lips. "Who the fuck are you?"

Taken aback, Olivia shot him a surprised galre. She held out a hand. "Olivia Benson, your new partner, apparently."

"Elliot," he intoned with a single nod, but he felt her hand in his, letting his thumb run along the side of her pinky finger as he tightened his grip. He let his eyes make the journey from her eyes to her chest and he hid the grin well, licking his lips again. He scraped his teeth over his bottom lip, then, and winced as he felt the ring on his hand press into the flesh of his finger, and slowly let her hand fall away from his. "Nice to, uh, meet you."

"Yeah," she said, looking at him curiously. "You need a minute to get…"

"No, no, I'm good,' he interrupted, unable to turn his head away from her. There was something about her, something he felt drawn to, and that was an incredible problem. He cleared his throat and told her, "You're picking up where Devlin left off, I guess." He sat on the edge of her desk and leaned over. "What'd you say your name was?"

"Benson," she repeated, blinking up and trying not to get lost in his piercing blue eyes. "Olivia Benson."

"I know you from somewhere," he said softly, his eyes closing just slightly as his head tilted.

She raised and lowered her eyebrows, giving him a curved smile and shake of her head. "Don't know," she shrugged. "What were you and...Devlin, was his name?" She watched him nod. "What were you working on?"

"Cragen didn't fill you in?" Elliot asked, suddenly a bit irritated.

Olivia's jaw dropped a bit as she flinched at his suddenly apparent temper. "Oh, uh, well he wanted...he wanted me to take care of all of this HR stuff, and I had to go down and take a drug test, but I…"

"Right, sorry," he cut her off and crossed his arms, sliding closer to her. "We were in the middle of a, uh…" he stared at her again, biting the inside of his cheek. "You know this unit is...tough."

"I know what I signed up for, I can handle it," she told him, annoyed at his assumption that she couldn't.

He nodded. "Six year old boy, prime suspect is his soccer coach." He scratched his chin, feeling stubble already poking through his skin, even though he'd shaved the night before, and he sighed. "We just got another complaint when…" his hands dropped, they curled, gripping the side of Olivia's desk. "Devlin fucking took off, son of a bitch," he spat harshly. "I'll be right back."

Olivia followed his body as he moved, pushing himself off of her desk and storming off toward the captain's door. He turned the knob and walked in without knocking, slamming it behind him. "He always that friendly?" she asked, directing the question to anyone who was listening.

Munch gave her an answer. "Nah, sometimes he's moody." He looked over at her. "Don't be offended, kid. He keeps everyone around here at arm's length."

Olivia nodded as she gnawed on the inside of her lip, her eyes still on Captain Cragen's door. With a resigned sigh, she went back to typing, entering what information she could and hitting the 'submit' button at the end of the page. She ran a hand through her short hair as she reached for the stack of files placed perilously in between her desk and Elliot's, on the joining seam. "Does anyone know which one of these is the case he said…"

"McCarter," Jeffries said before Olivia finished asking the question.

Olivia flipped through the folders, finding the name she needed, and sat back as she flipped it open. She scanned the file, the evidence log, the witness and victim statements, and in the back, an interview with another child, a potential second victim. She flipped the pages back and forth, sitting up straight, something hitting her as her eyes narrowed. "Son of a bitch," she said, and she got up fast, letting the folder drop to her desk. She walked fast, heading over to the captain's office, and she had the good sense to knock as she opened the door, not batting an eyelash at the loud, almost violent yelling the two men were doing.

"Oh, now you?" Cragen yelled. "You two are a match made in Heaven, neither of you has any fucking concept of what a closed fucking door means."

Olivia didn't even blink. "If you're done in here, we need to go pick up this soccer coach." She had one hand still on the knob, the other wrapped around the edge of the door.

Elliot snorted. "We don't have enough evidence to bring him in, we need to talk to the…"

"Both kids described his tattoo," Olivia interrupted. "I never played soccer, but I'm pretty damn sure seeing the coach's ass is not a standard rule of the game."

"How did you…" Elliot stared, stunned. "I read that entire file, three times, and didn't…"

"Well, the first vic said it looked like a butterfly, the second said it was an owl's face. But they both said it was brown and black, and depending on the quality and detail the tat artist put into it, if it's a Caligo butterfly, it does look like an…" she stopped. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Cragen looked at Elliot's amazed expression, and then smirked with folded arms, his white shirt wrinkling. "Yeah," he chuckled, "I hired a twenty-eight year old incompetent rookie, like you said." He jerked his head and jutted his chin toward the door. "Thank me later."

Elliot glared at his captain, tugged on his shirt, and then moved toward the door. "Nice one," he said, nodding at her as he held the door.

"Not bad for a...what did you call me?" Her eyes narrowed but her smirk crooked evilly. "An incompetent rookie?"

"I didn't," he stopped, lowered his voice. "I didn't call you that, I was asking him about you, my exact words were, 'Please, don't tell me you hired a kid, some twenty-eight year old…"

"Don't," she shot up a hand and shook her head, pulling her jacket off of the hook near her desk. "I'm used to it. I've been called worse, by more people than I can count." She turned sharply, looking into his eyes. "And I alway prove them wrong."

"I'll bet you do," he said to her, their eyes still locked. "But I wasn't insulting you, I swear I…"

"Can we just go get this bastard?" She rolled her eyes, pulling down her jacket and heading for the door. "You can apologize by buying me a beer when we nail the asshole."

He smiled at her, seeing her eyes glint and her lips curl slightly, taking in how truly beautiful and sexy she was, tough with a soft edge. He nodded and he felt some part of him break as another part of him swelled. "After you," he held out a hand gesturing to the doorway leading into the hall. He watched her go and the man in him forced his eyes to focus on her ass as she moved. His smile turned into a troubled flat line, he scrubbed a hand down his face. He was in so much fucking trouble, and he wasn't entirely sure he could handle it.

 **A/N: Maybe...do you want that beer? It comes with a lot of intense and interesting conversation. (And no...not yet, you smutty ones…this one takes its sweet time. But there's a fantasy or two..;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **We climbed towards the sun, We turned and cursed as one, We pulled the shades a** **nd closed our eyes (Scandinavian Skies - Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"You sure you don't have anywhere to be?" Olivia eyed her partner carefully, bringing the long-necked amber bottle to her lips. She kept focus as she took a swig of the beer, her third, and made a show of licking her lips and giving a refreshed moan. She knew what she was doing, and she knew he was married and wouldn't take the bait, but there were fifty other single guys at the bar who would. She knew how to play the game.

Elliot, staring transfixed, smirked and shook his head. "Nope," he said firmly, and then ran his tongue along his teeth. "I, uh, I noticed…" he scratched a spot behind his left ear nervously, "You...you were great with those little boys." He reached for his beer bottle. "Actually, I saw a couple different sides of you, tonight, but when you were with those kids…" his smirk grew into a warmer smile as the bottle reached his mouth. "It was beautiful." He sipped, swallowed, and watched the rosy tinge build in her cheeks. "You're beautiful." He shrugged. "And kinda scary."

She chuckled, her eyes now dropped to the bottle in her hands, her fingernails picking away at the wet and peeling label. Her insecurities bubbled to the surface along with her inability to accept compliments. "Thanks," she said softly. For a brief moment, the faces of the two young boys flashed in her mind. "Your turn," she muttered, pushing work to the back of her mind and jutting her chin at him. They'd been playing a game of Twenty Questions, covering trivial things like favorite colors and allergies, taking turns interrogating each other. The questions were just starting to dig deeper, and she used hers on a hypothetical, regretting it now.

"Right, uh," he blinked. "Do you have any tattoos?" He cringed at himself, knowing which part of his brain had formed the question and cursing the rest of it for not stopping him from asking it.

Darting her eyes to his, she grinned. "One."

"What is it?" he questioned. Every hair on his body stood on end, and he grinned at her curiously. "Where is it?"

"A sun and a moon," she told him, lifting up her bottle again. "And nowhere you're ever gonna see." She winked at him and downed the rest of her beer.

He waited for her to swallow, winked back, and said, "Don't bet on it." He watcher her raise a brow and he chuckled. "I meant at work. Ya know, we get hurt, we get messy, we all share a locker room and a shower, the bunks when we pull the long ones...I might eventually see…"

"I don't think your wife would appreciate it," she said, shooting a glance at his left hand. She felt a pang of jealousy, but wasn't sure why. She'd only known the man for nineteen hours, yet had undeniable chemistry with him. Something just clicked, and she couldn't shake the feeling that they'd met somewhere before, but couldn't figure it out. She shook away the nagging feeling, and she cleared her throat. "You're right, though, I mean, there's a good chance you'll see it, eventually."

"Does it have any…" he paused, squinting as he ran his hand down the length of his beer and grabbed it firmly. "Any special meaning behind it?" He nodded toward his rolled up sleeve. "Mine are all very...special. Powerful significance, ya know?"

She nodded and moved to signal someone to bring two more beers to their table. Once she had, she looked back at Elliot. "It's, um...it's a cover-up."

"Oh, no," he laughed. "Let me guess. You got a guy's name tattooed on your ass and…"

"It's covering a scar," she interrupted, her tone almost offended. Had she come off easy? Did she really make that kind of impression on him?

His eyes lost their sparkle as he realized his mistake. "I didn't…" he leaned closer to her. "I was kidding. I'm sorry, I…most of my partners have been guys, I'm not really used to shootin' the shit with a woman. I really didn't mean to offend..." He was interrupted when the bartender dropped two fresh bottles of beer in front of him, and then made a mildly seductive face at Olivia. Elliot furrowed his brow, scoffing, as he watched Olivia return the gaze. He glared at the man as he sauntered away, then shook his head, irritated, gulping his beer.

Olivia hid her crooked smile behind her bottle as she took her first sip of beer number four. After swallowing hard, she looked down at the half-gone plate of fries and asked, "How old were you when you…"

"Scar from what?" His question overlapped hers.

They shared a laugh, kept eye-contact as they sipped their beers again, and then Olivia held out a hand. "Technically it was my turn, so you answer first." She poked at a fry with her finger before grabbing it. "How old were you when you joined the service." She popped the fry into her mouth. As she chewed, she added, "Eagle, globe, and anchor. Marines, right?" She eyes the tattoo on his forearm, for the first time taking in the curve and tension of the muscle. She took another long sip of beer, dragging her eyes back up to meet his.

He reached over and took a fry for himself, swiped it through the small puddle of ketchup on the plate, and nodded. With a mouth full, he said, "Eighteen." He saw the stun on her face. "Yeah, I made a mistake...well, a couple of them, during my senior year in high school. I had to own up to them. Do what I had to do." He shrugged and sipped his beer. "It all made me who I am, so I don't regret it, I just...regret why I had to go in so young."

"What mistakes?" she asked, her hand resting on her beer bottle, her knuckles barely brushing against his, curled around his own beer as well.

"Nuh-uh," he joked, taking another fry. "Now you need to answer my question." He shot one brow up, daring her, and tossed the fry into his mouth with a grin.

"I don't…" she licked her lips and shook her head. Her thoughts drifted back to the fight that led to the wound that scarred so badly it required two surgeries and a tattoo to even out. She blinked, trying to forget, and she caught her lip between her teeth. It wasn't something she'd ever told anyone, a secret buried so deep even her own consciousness couldn't accept the full story. Glancing at her partner, she told him, "I haven't known you long enough to…"

"Wait," he stopped her with narrow eyes, scooted his chair around the table to slide next to her, and lowered his voice to an intimate level. "Line of duty?" he asked, and then grew pale with worry. "Oh, oh God, is it something you need to report to…"

She stopped him fast, eager to put his mind at ease for the time being. "No, no, I could tell you all about every injury I got on the job if you want," she exhaled as her eyes closed, her right hand raked through her hair as her left gripped her bottle tighter. She took a long, slow gulp of her beer, and then set the bottle down and pushed it away. "You asked if it meant something." She twisted in her seat. "The tattoo...it's a half-moon and a, well, half-sun. Very intricately designed, with detailed faces, the clouds around the moon and the sun's rays...they swirl in these patterns that just…" she smiled and leaned over on her elbows, "It's beautiful."

"Sounds like it," he said, trying unsuccessfully to convince himself not to imagine where it was. He sipped his beer, needing the cooling off, and afterward, he told her, "If I can't see it in person, show me a picture."

She laughed, her head falling back on its own, and when she felt his hand on her shoulder she popped back upright, still laughing softly. "Maybe," she said with a small bow of her head. "Anyway it...it's supposed to symbolize the circle of life, an ending and a beginning. The sun...represents strength and power, and a rebirth...and the moon is a…"

"Feminine symbology," he broke in, "Beauty, grace, fertility...womanhood. It's a goddess symbol." He noticed the surprised smile on her face as she nodded at him, and he stroked his tie proudly. "I took a comparative religion class in college. The unit on symbolism is the only one I remember." They shared another chuckle and then he said, "I haven't known you for a full day, yet, but I can tell, that tattoo is...very you."

"Thanks," she smiled, almost embarrassed, and then took a fast sip of her beer. "My original intent was just the moon, but...because of the shape and size of my scar...it's got these jagged edges on one side that wouldn't have been covered. The artist came up with the idea to add the sun, and when he told me what it signified I was sold." She shrugged with a chortle, sipped her beer again, and then looked right at Elliot. "As for how I got the scar? It's just...not something I can tell you about." She paused. "Yet."

He nodded, understanding the tone of her voice. "Got it," he whispered to her. "I won't bring it up. Not until you do. And, Benson, I hope eventually you will." His eyes twitched and he jerked his head a bit. "We need to trust each other, kid."

"I know we do," she sighed. "Hell of a first day on the job," she breathed, rubbing her eyes.

He grinned at her. "Yeah, but you held your own in that interrogation room," he slapped her on the shoulder and leaned back in his chair. "You were cool and confident, and I'm being honest, here, I have never had a partner play off of me the way you did. We got the coach to confess in, what, ten minutes? We...work." He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he raised both brows and nodded, as if surprised by how well and how quickly they seemed to find their rhythm. "You done?" he pointed to the fries.

"Oh, yeah," she said, scooting back so he could pull the dish away. She checked her watch and gasped softly. "We should go. It's almost midnight," she said, standing fast.

"Shit, really?" he spat. He didn't seem concerned, just surprised that so much time had passed, that they'd spent so long at the bar just talking to each other. He smiled, noting to himself that it was the first time he had someone to really talk to, and that it came so easily with her. "You need a ride home?"

"I only live a couple of blocks from here, I'll walk," she said as she shook her head and pulled on her jacket. "You need to get home before Kristy kills you."

He threw a fifty-dollar bill on the table and laughed as he corrected her. "Kathy," he said. "Her name's Kathy. You...you sure? I don't know how comfortable I am with you walking home this late."

She looked at him as though he had three heads. "It's eleven-forty-five on a Wednesday night," she scoffed, "And I have a gun." She patted her right hip and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length locks again. "Thanks, for this," she pointed to the table and the money. "The guys at the station...they said you don't really warm up to people, which I fully understand, I'm the same way, so this wasn't necessary. But it was...nice. I had a great time, actually."

He tugged on the hem of his suit jacket and narrowed his eyes. "They said what?" He let out a bitter huff and then shook his head, looking at her. "I didn't buy you dinner as some kind of first-day-at-work-thing. I really...I wanted to get to know you a little bit better. I have this feeling…"

He didn't get to finish his sentence. His phone rang, and when he fished it out of his pocket and looked at the number flashing on the screen, he held up a finger, telling Olivia she wasn't going anywhere. "Hey, Cap. Yeah, no I was...okay. I know where she lives, yeah. No, you...you picked a good one this time, yeah." He smiled at her as he spoke, and he scraped his teeth over his lip as he realized he'd made her blush again. "Got it. Bye."

"Caught something?" she asked, though she knew the answer already.

"Fifteen year old girl," he sighed as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Found on the steps of the Fifty-Seventh Street station." He pressed his lips together and cursed under his breath. He hated the cases involving children, especially the ones where the help came for them too late. "You sober enough to…"

"Trust me," she said, eyeing him meaningfully. "It takes a lot more than a couple of beers." She popped her chin at him. "What about you?"

"I'm genetically gifted with a high tolerance," he replied, and he got closer to her and then whispered, "I saw the look in your eyes when I asked. I know it well. Mother or father?"

She didn't hesitate. "Mother."

"Father," he countered, and he gave her another pat on the back. "Looks like we already have more in common than we bargained for, kid." He nudged her forward, and appreciated the view ahead of him as they walked through the bar toward the doors.

She pushed the door open, and behind her, she heard him on the phone with his wife, telling her he was still at work and wouldn't be home. Her eyes narrowed as she strained to let his words register. Not his current conversation, but one already spoken. His admission back at the bar, his acknowledgement of his father's alcoholic nature, had flicked on a light bulb. She smiled as she heard the beep and click of their unit car unlocking, and she laughed softly as she pulled on the handle.

She finally remembered how she knew Elliot, but had no intention of telling him. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he figured it out for himself.

 **A/N: How do they know each other? Tensions run high at work, another partnerly conversation, and Kathy meets Olivia, next.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** **She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me without a sound, she touches me and I get turned around. (She's Got a Way- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

The bright, flashing lights splashed reds and blues against the stark black sky, illuminating the scene in a purple haze.

Elliot licked his lips as he stared at his partner, the lights passing over her face in waves, and he smiled. She was absolutely beautiful. He stiffened, his smile fading, when she turned and headed for him.

She tugged on the navy blue NYPD windbreaker that a uniformed officer had given her when the rain started, her eyes focused on Elliot's. "Guy said he was sleeping by the turnstiles when he heard her scream. He looked over and saw what he describes as," she paused, looked down at her notes, and scoffed as she read, "Two kids in a hurry to get their rocks off." She slapped the notebook shut and shook her head. "He stopped watching after that, says he didn't want to be rude. He went back to sleep."

"He could've saved her," Elliot whispered, the pangs of guilt and disappointment clear in his voice. "I, uh," he cleared his throat and ran a hand over his damp hair, squeezing away the rainwater. "I didn't get anything from the booth attendant, but they're sending over the tapes."

She nodded at him and stifled a yawn. "You call Kelly?"

"Who?" Elliot squinted, and then he laughed. "Kathy. And no, not since we left the bar. It's two in the morning, she's asleep. Like I wish we were right now." He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"I probably wouldn't be asleep, anyway," she said, tilting her head. "We got a name?" she yelled over to the medical examiner, who was loading the body of the broken girl onto the transport van.

"What do you mean, you wouldn't be asleep?" He asked her the question as they walked toward the van, and very slowly he reached out and brushed the wet hair off of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Their eyes met, a question passed from her to him, and in an instant, he dropped his hands.

"Sorry, I...um…" he nodded and then shrugged, the severe look on her face scaring him into retreating.

She looked away before she smiled and rolled her eyes at herself. "Doc?"

"According to our PAFIS," the coroner began, holding out a small, black tablet, "Her name is Chelsea O'Conner, her prints are in the system because of her school's child safety program." He shook his head. "The reason it exists, but we hope we never need it."

"Can you send that to us?" Olivia asked, pointing to the page on the tablet. She watched the doctor nod and start tapping on the screen, and then turned to Elliot and lowered her voice. "Address on the Upper East Side, her mother is a lawyer, her father is in the Navy."

Elliot's eyes flickered. "You looked at that screen for, like, two seconds, how did you…"

"What was she doing down here, alone?" Olivia asked, interrupting him, her gaze now set on the subway entrance. "It's after two AM, she was either avoiding going home...or running away from it."

Elliot saw the look in her eyes, the way her lids twitched, and he knew she was remembering a moment that must have been eerily similar. "Hey, uh," he licked his lips. "We won't have anything from the ME for a few hours, and Cap's gonna call us back when he can greenlight notifying her family, so we got time. I need a cup of coffee, and I could use a shower."

She nodded and bit her lip, still staring at the subway steps. "Yeah, I'll just meet you back at…"

"Come with me," he interrupted. He chuckled at the surprised look on her face as she snapped her head toward him. "My place. Everyone's asleep, you could...if you wanted to...I'd be like fifteen minutes, tops, and I don't really want you to be alone right now, ya know. And if you wanted to…"

"Can we swing by my place first?" she asked, blinking raindrops out of her eyes. "I smell like beer and New York." She made a face and slapped the back of her hand into his chest. "It'll be fast." She nodded her thanks to the other cops and waved to the medical examiner as the van drove off, then led Elliot toward the car. She spouted the address to her apartment as she got in and latched her seatbelt.

"Really?" he hummed, and then he grinned. "Nice neighborhood." He shrugged. "For midtown, I mean."

"Yeah," she chuckled, "Nice rent, too. It's not easy making it on a cop's salary." She ran her hands through her wet hair and eyed the windshield wipers. "It's really coming down, now."

"Yeah, kind of another reason I didn't want you walking home," he told her, and he grinned. "Am I a great partner or what?"

She smirked. "So far, so good," she joked. "We haven't had a lot of time to annoy each other, yet, but...I think they were wrong."

"Who?" He quirked a brow and flattened his smile.

"Munch and Jeffries," she told him. "They've got you all wrong."

Elliot soured, shaking his head. "No, no, uh...actually..they've got me pegged." He cleared his throat. "I'm just…they're not…"

"Don't explain it," she said with a shake of her head. "Told you, I'm the same way. I don't get too close to people, makes the job easier." She sighed and leaned back in the seat. "I can't even keep a plant alive. I admire you for being able to make a marriage work, have a stable family outside of…" she waved a hand. "This."

He let out a noise that sounded like something caught between a hard laugh and disgusted snort. "I'm married, yeah, but it...making it work is fucking hard." He turned the wheel and his grimace became a smile. "My kids, though. They're my whole world. I try to be there, no matter what. Sometimes...sometimes it doesn't all go as planned, but they know I'm always…I'm always there. No matter what."

Olivia's smile grew, and her heart warmed. "How old are they? Your kids?"

Elliot started talking quickly, his face bright as he spoke. "Maureen is the oldest, she's ten. She just won her school spelling bee, and maybe she gets to compete in the city championship in June. Oh, then there's Katie, um, Kathleen. She's our middle child, and boy, do we know it. She's eight, and she demands attention when she wants it and hides when she doesn't. Brilliant soccer player. We have six year old twins, Lizzie and Dickie, and they're a handful, lemme tell ya. They are so close, but there are days when I'm afraid they're gonna kill each other."

Olivia couldn't keep from laughing at the way Elliot seemed to light up as he talked about his kids. She scraped her teeth along her lip. "Four kids, wow. So Maureen is ten, huh? How long have you been married? You don't look old enough to…"

"Ten years. That's a, um," he started, and then he sighed. He pulled the car up to the curb in front of Olivia's building, parked it, and looked at her. "I'm not exactly…" he coughed. "Remember, at the bar, I said I made a few mistakes?" He watched her nod and then he shrugged. "Getting my girlfriend pregnant our senior year, and marrying her right after graduation...that's two of them."

"Oh," Olivia said, surprised. "I'm sorry, I didn't…I didn't mean to bring it up. Highschool sweethearts, though, that's really rare. Something so...special." She saw a look in his eyes that made her wonder if she had offended him. "Sorry."

"I'm not proud of how she happened, but...Maureen wasn't a mistake, and I try to show her every day that she wasn't, but...I'd always imagined my life would be...a lot different than it is, my responsibility outweighed a lot of other things." He was silent for a moment. "What about you? You got kids?"

Her smile faded and the light in her eyes dimmed. "No," she said quickly, and then opened the car door. "You can come up if you want, or you can wait, it'll only…"

"I'll come up with you," he said nodding, wondering why she'd shifted mood and topic so quickly. He followed her up the front steps, watched her open the front door, and then stayed close behind her as they walked down the hall to her apartment.

She turned her key and pushed the door open, leaving him to close it behind him. She threw her jacket over the arm of the chair in the corner, kicked off her shoes, and dropped her keys, badge, and gun onto the coffee table. "I'll be fast."

He turned to say something but she was already out of sight. He let out a heavy breath and then looked around the apartment. The kitchen and living room were connected, but the decor and clever painting made them into completely separate rooms. He walked along the plush carpet, his eyes taking in each of the few photos on the wall, and one that made him smile. "She was adorable," he said to himself, staring at a framed picture of her around age seven, in a frilly dress, sitting on Santa's lap, and an older woman he assumed was her mother standing behind her.

He heard the shower running and moved into the kitchen, one hand in his pocket as the other nosily opened cabinets and drawers. "There's nothing…" he pulled open the refrigerator. "How much takeout can one person stand?" He closed the fridge door and then flipped through the papers tacked to the metal by magnets. He hummed and then straightened, shoved his other hand in his pocket, and strolled back toward the couch. He was about to sit, but her voice hit his ears.

Curiosity got the best of him, he sidestepped the couch and headed down the short hallway, stopping in front of what he realized was the bathroom door. She was singing, a song he knew. He squinted a bit as he strained to listen more closely, and he caught himself reaching for the doorknob. He scolded himself and backed up, and then turned to his left, seeing another door.

He assumed it was her bedroom and rested a hand on the knob for a moment before opening the door. It was smaller than he expected, and didn't seem to be what he thought a girl like her would have. The walls were white, bare, the bedding grey and black, and the dressers clear. It was so simple and plain, so...unlike her.

"What are you doing?" She asked from the doorway.

He turned sharply, his eyes wide. He found himself staring at her, clad only in a towel. "That really was fast," he said, his voice cracking since his mouth and throat had gone dry.

"Yeah. Can you get out of here so I can get dressed?" She raised one eyebrow and tried not to smirk, her fingers gripping the towel a bit tighter.

He nodded dumbly, a small part of him knowing he'd rather stay and watch, maybe help. He cleared his throat and mumbled an apology, and then breezed by her and ran back into the living room.

She rolled her eyes and laughed, and made sure the door was shut before setting off to get ready.

It didn't take long, and within minutes, they were back in the sedan heading out to Queens so that Elliot could do what he needed to do, in his own home. The ride was quick, time passed by playing a word association game. He pulled into his driveway and ran around to open her door for her. He grinned and nodded when she got out of the car, appreciating the grey suit and blue shirt she'd chosen. He licked his lips as he ran up the steps and unlocked his front door.

"Elliot?" a woman's voice questioned as the door opened.

Surprised, Elliot pulled the keys out of the door's lock. "Yeah, what are you doing up?"

"I woke up to...who are you?" The woman eyed Olivia almost nastily, looking her up and down, as if deciding something.

"Kathy, this is my new partner," he looked over and smiled. "Olivia Benson."

Olivia smiled and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Kathy took her hand, shook it quickly, and gave her a half-smile. "You're not what I expected, when he said he got a new partner, I just assumed…"

"She's not what anyone expected," Elliot said with a chuckle as he winked at Olivia. "Got lucky with this one."

Olivia smiled back at him, and then turned to Kathy. "He's told me all about you and the kids, he's very proud of his family."

"Yes, I know he is," Kathy said, and she looped an arm loosely around Elliot. "What are you doing here?"

Olivia swallowed hard, wondering why she was feeling so cold all of a sudden. "We're just...on our way back to work, he wanted to come home and shower, change, shave…" she waved a hand.

"I don't think you need to help him with that," Kathy joked snidely. "Partners do draw the line somewhere," she snapped ehr head toeard Elliot. "Don't they?"

Elliot pulled away from his wife. "Funny. Kath, I asked her to come with me. We're still on the clock and I only have fifteen minutes. If I had to drive here by myself and then all the way back to midtown to pick her up, and then all the way uptown, we'd be late. It was just a way to save time." He kissed her cheek and nodded at Olivia, and then bounded up the stairs to shower.

Kathy gave Olivia an inquisitive look and tilted her head. "You, um, you keep each other safe out there, okay?"

"We will," Olivia said with a smile. She watched Kathy follow Elliot up the stairs and then closed her eyes, exhaling. "Great, now I have to wait here while he…" she stopped, shaking away the thought that made her queasy for a reason she didn't understand. She looked around and then took the same path Elliot had taken at her place, moving around the room and looking at pictures of what she thought was a beautiful, happy family, and then into the large eat-in kitchen. It was stocked with appliances and decor items and overflowing with all kinds of foods and snacks.

She ran her hand along the marble countertop, sighing again. This home, this family, it was everything she'd dreamed she'd have by now. Instead, she had a job that took more than its share from her and an empty apartment. She moved back and to her left, looking over her shoulder for any sign of Kathy as she opened the refrigerator. "Holy shit," she chuckled. Fresh fruits and vegetables filled the bottom drawers while shelves were filled with Tupperware containers of leftovers and prepped meals. "Beer, nice," she laughed, spying the two six pack boxes on the bottom shelf. She shut the door and ran her hand down her face, and then turned to head back into the living room.

She eyed the photos again, seeing the kids looking happy in all of them, and Elliot smiling wildly. Then her eyes landed on the pictures on the mantle, and her smile faded a bit. They looked less happy, more tense. Their wedding picture made them look terrified and what must have been the most recent family photo beside it seemed more like a picture of the kids with two bookends. Elliot and Kathy stood as far apart as they could be and still be in the frame.

She gave the photo a sad smile, then something glinting in the light caught her attention. She turned and saw a small display cabinet, filled with plaques and medals. Some were his children's from sports and academic events, but one shelf was entirely his. Military commendations, medals, and framed certificates scattered between a collection of the same from his journey as a cop. A medal he'd earned in the academy stood proudly beside his graduation photo, in a silver frame. His first badge lay beside it, next to a glass statuette he'd earned when he made detective.

"Ah, I see you found my bragging rights," Elliot joked, walking down the stairs. He was rubbing a towel over his head and trying to curl his tie into a Windsor knot with one hand.

She chuckled and walked toward him, and took the silk tie out of his hands. She looped it expertly and tied it perfectly. "Too tight?"

"Not at all," he said, his mouth curled into a smile. "Saint Luke's Alateen program."

She swallowed and stiffened. "What about it?"

"I knew you looked familiar, and I knew…" he shrugged and tossed the towel over his shoulder. "I figured it out when I was in the shower."

She smirked at him. "You were thinking about me in the shower?" She folded her arms.

"Yeah, I was," he joked back. "I remember. We would sit in the corner and ignore everyone, neither of us ever said anything to the rest of the group. We spent a lot of time just...telling jokes and making up stories about the counselors."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Yeah, I, uh, I realized that's where I knew you from, when we left the bar."

He narrowed his eyes. "I remember...one meeting, you had this bruise…" he pointed to her left cheek. "Right there. Wouldn't tell me how you got it. Then, the next day, you didn't show up. No one...no one could tell me anything. I missed you."

"Then you forgot about me," she shrugged. "People usually do." She breathed out slowly. "But, wow! Small world, right? Hey, uh, how hot did that shower get?" She playfully wagged her eyebrows. "Your wife seemed pretty eager to follow you upstairs."

"Deflecting," he said, shaking his head. "As I recall, you did that a lot in those meetings."

"Those meetings were pointless," she spat, heading for the door. "You and I both know...they weren't meant for kids like me." She walked faster and pulled open the door. "And you didn't answer my question."

He strode up to her, stared into her eyes, and a wicked smirk played at his lips. "Kathy went back to bed, my shower took less than ten minutes," he licked his lips. "Trust me, uh, I would take my time if…" he cleared his throat. "But not with…"

Olivia's phone rang, saving him from making a rather personal confession. She pulled it out of her pocket and answered with a hard, "Benson." She crooked a finger and told him to follow her to the car. "Yeah, we are, thanks." She hung up and looked at him. "Cragen said we could go tell the ME confirmed it's her."

"The fun part," he nodded glumly. He unlocked the car and ran to the driver's side. "You need to go food shopping by the way."

"Why? I could just take some from your stockpile," she quipped back as she opened the door. The two shared a laugh and as she buckled her seatbelt, she looked at him. "Your family is really beautiful. You...you're so lucky, Elliot."

He sighed as he started the car. He pulled out of the driveway and said, "We take great pictures, but..." He shook his head and decided that if they made it through the day without killing each other, he'd tell her the truth. There was something about her, something that made him feel like he could open up parts of himself to her that no one else even knew existed, and it was impossible to ignore. "Where are we heading?" he asked.

She still had her phone in her hands. "It's right here, hold on," she said as she scrolled through the email the coroner had sent her. "One-Eighty, East Eighty-Eighth Street."

"Shit, that's rich," he scoffed in amazement, knowing the cost of a home in that area. "I don't think this is gonna be an easy one, Benson."

Olivia yawned, and then she said, "The cases involving children never are, Stabler."

He bit his lip and drove a bit faster, for the first time feeling like he had a real partner by his side, and was ready for whatever was coming.

Or so he thought.

 **A/N: Their first professional are followed by a personal reconciliation. Next. And for those who may not know, Alateen is a program for the children in families affected by alcoholism (they are not alcoholics.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** **She's got a way of talkin'. I don't know what it is, but it lifts me up when we are walkin' anywhere. (She's Got a Way- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"I know more about this than you do!" Olivia yelled, her face contorted into a spiral of anger and pain.

Elliot scoffed, his smirk almost evil, as he stared back at her just as angrily. "Bullshit, Benson," he huffed. "You've been on the job, what, three days? I got years on you, so don't tell me you know what that girl is going through! Job experience tells me this is a kid who got angry because mommy wouldn't let her stay out past her bedtime! There's no crime here!"

"I'm not talking about job experience," she spat, rolling her eyes. She pushed past him, and then barreled up the stairs toward the squad's bunkroom. She knew he was following her, and she tried like hell to get through the door and lock it before he could make his way in with her.

"What the hell," Elliot bit, "You don't just walk away from me when we're…"

"Drop it!" she barked, spinning on her heels. She ran both hands through her hair roughly, heaved a heavy breath, and shook her head. "Just pull the woman's record, Elliot! Damn it, why can't you just trust me on this?"

Elliot narrowed his eyes. "You want me to believe, for a single second, that the reason this woman…" he licked his lips. "The girl is lying, Olivia! You're not a parent, are you? You wouldn't know how to tell if…"

"She isn't lying!" Olivia interrupted loudly. "Fuck, Elliot, no, I'm not a mother, but I know that that scared, little girl in there thinks she's going to jail because she, for probably the first time in her life, fought back!"

Elliot folded his arms. "Her mother is a legal secretary, Harvard graduate, there's no way in hell…"

Olivia held up a hand. "She's also got bloodshot eyes, and she can't stop shaking! Those are signs of alcohol…"

"She's scared!" Elliot defended. "And probably worried about her daughter, who, in case you forgot, tried to run her over with a car!"

"Elliot, the girl was just trying to get away from her mother," Olivia said, her voice cracking with emotion. "In her statement, she claimed this wasn't the first time her mother hit her, and she wasn't trying to kill her, she just wanted to get away."

Elliot rubbed his eyes and chuckled slightly. "You honestly want me to believe that the woman in that room makes it a habit of getting wasted and beating the shit out of her daughter?"

"Yes!" Olivia shouted.

With narrow eyes, Elliot shook his head. "How could you…"

"Because mine did!" Her eyes widened. Her jaw snapped shut. She froze. She had never admitted that out loud to anyone. Her eyes remained fixed on Elliot's as her heart throbbed against her ribcage, her lungs burning with need since she forgot to breathe.

Elliot blinked once, dropped his arms to his sides, and took two slow steps toward Olivia. "What?" he whispered gently.

Swallowing hard, Olivia closed her eyes and sat on the nearest lumpy mattress. Her head dropped. "The reason...the reason I never spoke up at those meetings? My mom would have killed me if I said anything. When I left...the reason you never saw me again…"

Elliot sat beside her, his hand slowly moving toward hers. "Go on," he encouraged.

Olivia jumped a bit when she felt Elliot take her hand, but she turned her head to look at him. "My mother was an English professor. Around the time those I was forced to go to those meetings, I started dating one of her students. He was a senior, twenty-one years old. And he asked me to marry him. And I said yes. Because I wanted to get away from my mother." She shook her head, forcing the tears to fall out of her open eyes. "Well, the day of that last meeting...my mom found out. God, she was pissed, she told me that if I didn't stop seeing him, that she would have him kicked out of college."

"Jesus," Elliot reacted, his thumb wiping over the side of her hand in his.

Olivia swallowed hard again, her eyes darting down to his hand holding hers, and then back up to his eyes. "Anyway, I told her that I was moving out. She was halfway through a bottle of vodka and she dropped it." She stared past Elliot now, remembering. "It shattered all over the floor. And then she picked up the jagged edge of the bottle and... and she came at me, screaming, 'I'll never let anyone else have you.' And so…" she took a deep but shaking breath. "I kicked her, hard. And then I just...kicked her again. She went flying across the room, into the wall. She...she slid down to the floor." She shook her head fast as she looked back into Elliot's eyes. "I'd never hurt her before. I ran out. I was so afraid…"

"Shh," Elliot soothed, using his free hand to loop around her and press her down into his chest. "Shh," he hushed again, letting her cry. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know."

She pulled her hand out of his. "No one does," she whispered back, sitting up and wiping her eyes. "That's...that's how I know, okay? Elliot, that woman, no matter how professional and maternal she may seem, is an alcoholic. That little girl is her punching bag." She sniffled. "Please, just pull her records, and if I'm wrong, I will…"

"Let's go," he said, nodding at her. "We should...we should do it together." He reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "Maybe it's me, then. I'm the one who doesn't understand...how a parent could ever intentionally hurt…"

"She had her reasons," Olivia said with a bitter chuckle. She took a breath and licked her lips. "Trust me." She turned to walk away from him, but her head snapped back when he grabbed her arm. "Elliot, what are you…"

"That scar," he began, cutting her off. "The one you covered up with the tattoo...which you still need to show me, by the way," he winked at her and gave her a half smile. "Did your mother...did she do that to you?"

Olivia blinked. Slowly, she nodded, and then pulled herself out of Elliot's grip. "We need to go, they're probably wondering where the hell we went."

Elliot sighed and followed her out of the room, back down the stairs, and they immediately headed over to Olivia's desk. Elliot started typing fast, gasping when the screen blipped and beeped, and a few windows popped up. "Son of a bitch," he hissed, and then looked at Olivia. "You were right. Look at this."

Olivia looked at the screen to find several police reports written on the mother they had in an interview room, along with an arrest record and mugshot, and a medical evaluation from a rehabilitation facility. "Thanks," she said to him, looking into his eyes again.

He smiled at her. "I do, ya know...trust you. This wasn't about…"

"I know," she said with a smile, slapping him in the chest with the back of her hand. "Let's go talk to…"

"Hey, Benson!" Monique Jeffries walked over to her, handing her a folder. "Harrow down in HR wanted me to give you this, says you left some things blank. I told him it was because they went digital on us and these computers are from the stone age." She laughed and folded her arms when Olivia took the folder. "He says you can just write in the information."

"Thanks," Olivia said with a nod, and then she tossed the folder onto her desk. "But I didn't leave anything out," she shrugged, and then moved to head into the interview room.

"Yeah you did," Elliot's voice stopped her.

She turned to see him leaning over her desk, the file open, one finger grazing down the page. "What the hell," she snapped, and she slapped her hand over the folder. "That's personal! Are you out of your…"

"I was only trying to help," he defended. "Those things are tricky! Sometimes, you leave a blank or two empty and don't notice, but you…" he lowered his voice. "You left two entire pages blank." He looked around for a moment, and then tugged on his shirt cuffs. "If you're trying to hide anything, I need to know. You could get into serious shit if they find something on you, so whatever it is you're…"

"I'm not hiding anything," Olivia said sharply. She turned to lead Elliot into the room to talk to their perp, who was now the victim, and she said, "Cragen knows why those pages were blank, he was supposed to clear it with HR, but I guess I'm a little low on his list of priorities right now."

Elliot looked from her to the file, now closed, on her desk. He raised one eyebrow and looked back at her. "That...that's not true…" he shook his head slightly. "Guys down in HR...they got their heads up their asses."

She chuckled and smiled at him, and then gestured toward the hallway leading to the interrogation room. "Who should we…"

"The girl," Elliot said quickly. He pressed his lips together. "I want to apologize to her." He saw something flash in Olivia's eyes and felt an unfamiliar flutter in his stomach. He followed her back into the stone-walled room, and as soon as he walked in, the frightened fourteen year old girl jumped and gasped. "Relax," he said calmly, offering a small smile. "Christine," he spoke, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you," he admitted.

The girl nodded. "No one ever does," she almost whispered. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," Elliot said a bit louder. "I swear, my partner and I are here, now, and we need you to tell us everything. We're going to help you, okay?"

Christine's eyes filled with fresh tears as she looked from him to Olivia and back again, stunned. "No one has ever…" she paused. "She...my mother needs help, too. More than I do. She...she drinks."

"We know, sweetheart," Olivia said tenderly. She reached for the girl's hand.

Elliot smiled to himself as he watched Olivia tilt her head and he realized how much trouble he was in, and how he simply didn't care about it. He listened to Olivia speak, the way she both comforted and reassured the teenager, her voice soothing and firm at the same time. And then he turned his head, hearing something from the girl that gave him pause. "Sorry," he said, "One more time?"

"It's true," Christine sniffled. "It's my fault. She drinks because of me." She eyed Olivia and then looked down at the cold, metal table. "She didn't want me, and she drinks because she still doesn't want me."

Elliot blinked. "Honey, you are not the reason she…"

"You don't understand," the girl interrupted. "She was raped."

"When?" Elliot asked quickly. "She needs to report…"

"Fourteen years ago," the girl cut in, sniffling. "I guess I look like him, you know? A constant reminder of the worst night of her life."

Elliot was silent, by his eyes had drifted toward Olivia who had gripped the girl's hand a bit tighter. He noticed tears in her eyes. "Hey," he whispered to her. "Benson, are you…"

"I'm fine," she said with a firm, fast nod. "Listen, honey, you and your mother...are going to be okay." She pushed her chair back and stood up, wiping her eyes. "I need to go make a phone call." She sped out of the room, a blur of tan and purple swirling as she left.

Elliot watched, confused, until he put the pieces together. With a gasp, he understood, and his heart broke. He ran a hand down his face and knew that he needed to talk to her again, and tonight, he wasn't holding anything back, and he hoped that she wouldn't either.

 **A/N: Will Olivia tell Elliot the truth? Will she show him that tattoo? Or are the walls she has up still too strong to crumble? Hmm.**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** **She's got a way of talkin'. I don't know what it is, but it lifts me up when we are walkin' anywhere. (She's Got a Way- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"Shit," Elliot said through a stifled yawn, reaching for his suit jacket, "Two cases closed in one day. That's...that's never happened before. At least, not since I've been here. Are we good or what?" He smiled as he turned his head toward Olivia, and his eyes narrowed. He pulled his jacket on as he stared at her, unable to remember when he'd ever seen someone look so beautiful and so exhausted at the same time. "You okay?" The question came out more worried than he'd intended.

She covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned and nodded. "Fine," she breathed, pulling her jacket off of the back of her chair. She pulled open her top desk drawer and grabbed her keys, then shut the door with her hip. "I'll see you to…"

"Let me drive you home," he cut her off, his eyes now looking into hers. "It's late."

She smiled. "I only live a few blocks away, Elliot, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

He moved closer to her, his wrinkled grey suit making a soft swooshing noise in the silent squadroom. "Yeah," he whispered, "But you've been doing that for too damn long, haven't you?" He reached out and brushed the hair out of her eyes with one finger, and tilted his head. "Please?"

Rolling her eyes, she licked her lips. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite put her finger on, that made him impossible to refuse. "Okay," she resigned, shrugging. She shoved her keys in the pocket of her black pants and folded her jacket over her arms. "After you," she quipped, jutting her chin toward the squadroom doors.

He chuckled and moved, leading her out into the hallway. "So, uh, before...when we were taking to that girl, um, Christine. I saw the way you were looking at her." He cleared his throat as he walked beside her, heading for the elevator. He slapped the call button with his left hand, eyes on her. "You, uh, you knew exactly what she was talking about, didn't you?"

"I am not having this conversation with you," she said more to herself than to him. "I sympathize with her, her mother and mine...have a lot in common." She stepped past him to get into the elevator as soon as the metal doors slid opened, eager to get away from the moment. She rubbed her eyes with one hand.

Elliot gnawed on the inside of his cheek for a second, contemplating his next move. Quickly, he shot out a hand and smacked the emergency stop button.

"Jesus," Olivia barked as the elevator jerked, jostling her into Elliot. When it fully stopped, she looked at him. "Why the fuck did you…"

"Benson," he interrupted again, his eyes now filled with tense worry, "I think I figured it all out, but I don't want to make assumptions, here." He took a breath and reached for her hand, and ignoring the warning gaze in her eyes, he grabbed it. He pulled her down to the floor of the elevator and turned his body to face hers. "Tell me," he said just above a whisper.

She blinked, stunned at his persistence and the intimacy of their stance. "Um," she stammered, still reeling at the feeling of his hand clutching hers. She looked up at him and said, with no trace of emotion on her face, "Start the elevator back up so we can go the hell home, huh? You haven't seen your kids in two days and I'm starting to hallucinate, I'm so tired."

He chuckled. "Nice try, kid," he said. "Look, I know we had a moment, today, where it seemed like we weren't on the same page, until we talked it out, and we're gonna do that a lot. It's the nature of the job. But I swear, Liv," he held her gaze and squeezed her hand, hoping his genuine sincerity was clear to her, "You can trust me. With anything. Nothing you tell me will ever get out, think of me like...an interactive journal." He winked at her.

She held her breath as she smiled at him, her eyes darting down to look at their linked hands again, her brain registering too late that he'd shortened her name. She looked back up at him, took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. "No one...except Cragen…"

"Got it," he nodded, "It's no one else's business, I know that, but I saw a look in your eyes tonight that I never want to see again, unless I know that the cause...isn't me."

She let out a long breath and shook her head. "No, you...you are…" she let the rest of the thought fall away and then said, "My mother was in college, um, Columbia actually." She took another breath, her eyes closing as if asking her not to finish the story, to not let him in any further. She squeezed them tighter and then opened them, licking her lips. "She was studying for finals, she...stayed at the library until it closed, around midnight. She took a short-cut back to her apartment, but never made it home. Someone…" she felt the tears build in her eyes, the lump form in her throat. She shook both away and continued. "Someone came from behind her...hit her, hard. Knocked her out."

"Oh, my God," he breathed, his eyes wide. This wasn't what he expected at all.

"When she came to, he was...on top of her," she shook her head fast, sniffling. "She went to the police, but they...they didn't have the kind of response to rape that we do, they chalked it up to morning-after regret. They collected what evidence they could but they needed a description and she...she couldn't give them anything to go on, it was so dark and she was...so scared."

Elliot reached up with his free hand and brushed a few tears away, cupping her cheek a bit longer after they'd gone. "Liv," he whispered, like a prayer.

She sniffled again and shrugged. "A month later she found out she was pregnant. She made arrangements to give me up, some couple a few blocks down from her was desperate for a child, or so the story goes. After she had me, she...I guess she couldn't go through with it, so she...kept me." She laughed at herself for crying, and blinked away more tears which were caught by Elliot's thumb and brushed away. "She couldn't handle that, either. Not without…" she paused. "She drank. A lot. To forget that night, to forget him, and every time she looked at me...she'd relive it all and drink some more. I know there were times she tried to be there, she tried to control herself, but more often than not she...she just couldn't figure out how to love me."

She closed her eyes again, and she felt Elliot's hand slip away from her face. She lifted her own free hand and swiped it down her face and took one more deep breath. "So no, I'm not hiding anything on those forms. All of that information was left blank because I don't know. I don't know his name. I don't know his birthday or what color eyes he has or if he has a criminal record. I just...don't know." She laughed again, bitterly. "That file is just the physical form of the truth I have to face. Half of me is missing."

Elliot shook his head firmly. "No, no you're all here, and you're...you're amazing." He wiped his own eyes, realizing he'd cried along with her, and he exhaled. "We make a pretty great team, Benson. You and me. Trust...is part of that, so..." He pulled his hand out of hers and brought it under her chin, nudging her head up to face him. "Thank you. For...for telling me."

"I don't let too many people into my life," she admitted to him. "It's not something that comes easy to me, so after telling you that...you're in."

He nodded, understanding. Slowly he got to his feet, pulled her up, and restarted the elevator. They took the quick ride down to the lobby in silence, sharing a smile or two, and when the doors slid open, he waved an arm. "After you," he said with a bow.

She laughed as she pulled on her jacket and walked through the lobby, heading for the station doors. Knowing he was following her, she shoved her hands in her pockets and said, "It's not that dark, all these street lights, ya know? Thanks for the offer but...I think, tonight, I need to walk home." She looked at him and gave him a smile. "Tell Kelly I'm sorry for hogging you the past couple of days."

He laughed loudly but corrected her again. "Kathy," he said to her. After his laugh quieted, they looked at each other for a moment, so many words unsaid but acknowledged. "You sure?"

"If you take me home tonight," she told him as she turned to leave him, "We'd regret it in the morning." She walked fast, leaving him on the steps of the station.

He narrowed his eyes and ran to catch up to her, spinning her around. "Hey, I wasn't...that never even…" he watched her raise an eyebrow at him. "I swear on my life, I was not trying to…"

"I know," she said, for the first time being the one to wink at him. "Man. You're an easy target, Stabler." She chuckled as he gave a relieved sigh and shocked laugh. "Honestly, it's okay. You need to get home before those beautiful kids of yours forget what you look like." She pulled away from him and walked a few feet before shouting, "See you in the morning!"

"I'll bring you coffee!" he shouted back to her, and as she got further and further away from him, he realized he wanted nothing more than to get closer to her, and there was only one way it would happen. He slid a hand down his face and let the weight of the day fall off of his shoulders.

He twisted his wedding band around his finger as he walked to his car, wondering how someone he'd only just met was able to get him to open up so easily and his wife of ten years couldn't get him to tell her anything about his job, his life beyond the house. He wondered what it meant, why no other partner he'd had before could work with him as well, why he cared so much about her so quickly.

He got into his car and started it, buckled his seatbelt, and sat back as the reason began to form in the back of his mind. With a grunt, he turned on the radio and backed out of his parking space. He wasn't ready to hear it, and he certainly wasn't going to let himself think it, now. He drove off, down the street, heading home to Queens, but part of him wasn't going home.

Part of him was back in that elevator with Olivia, hung on the unspoken offer he'd almost made to her. "God damn it," he spat, hitting the steering wheel. He turned it fast, swerving and screeching, in a hurry to get back to her before it was too late. He tried to remember which streets and avenues led to her house, but luckily she hadn't made a single turn, yet. He honked his horn as he saw her strolling down the sidewalk, getting her to stop and turn. He pulled over and parked, leaving the car running as he got out of it.

"Dude," she said, wide-eyed. "You really don't take no…"

"No, you...I'll let you walk home, I just…" He shrugged. "Do you want to find him? Your...the man who…" he gave up. "Your father?"

She squinted at him. "You drove back here just to ask me that?" She brushed her hair behind her ears and folded her arms as she shook her head. "People tried," she told him, "My mother went to the cops, she…"

"She went to the cops, what, almost thirty years ago?" He gave another quick shrug. "They didn't have DNA analysis, or AFIS, or…" he fumbled for the words and spoke fast. "They didn't have a team like us, huh? I think we could…" he paused, seeing the expression on her face that didn't seem good. Or bad. He waited for a beat. "I know the statute is long up, we can't arrest him, but...I just don't want you to have to leave that page blank for the rest of your life."

"You've only known me for three days," she said, shocked.

"Four," he countered, pointing a finger at her.

She laughed but shook her head. She stepped closer to him and exhaled slowly. "I've been looking for years. It's not…"

He shot to his feet pressed a finger to her lips. "You weren't looking with me." He winked at her and slowly dropped his hand. "You don't have to decide right now. The offer is on the table. If it's ever something you want to do, I'm with you."

She took a long look at him and, after seeing no sign or indication of deceit in his body language or features, she bit her lip. "What the hell," she breathed. "Why not?"

He clapped and nodded once. "So tomorrow, we'll go through everything they've got! Oh, do you know what precinct she went to? We have to call and tell them to send everything over, I'm sure McCann will run the…"

"We don't have to call anyone," she said, holding up a hand. She opened her mouth again but was completely cut off by him.

"But you just said…" he scoffed. "We can find him, I thought…" he stopped. "If you don't want…"

She smirked and mimicked his earlier action, pressing her finger to his lips. "We don't have to call anyone because she went to the One-Six, El." She grinned at him, knowing how strongly he felt about this, and perhaps even about her. She dropped her finger and shrugged her shoulders. "That's why Cragen knows. I didn't...I didn't tell him." She shrunk a bit. "I never actually told anyone. Until you."

He smiled at her, for some reason feeling a surge of pride and joy at her admission. "Goodnight, Liv."

She smiled at him. "Goodnight, El," and she turned again to head home, unknowingly letting her lips curl into the same comfortable smile as his were.

Their smiles would fade in the morning, though, as more reality would hit them. Hard.

 **A/N: What? What happens? And now that Elliot knows about Olivia's past, will he tell her about his? And someone meets the kids.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:I know you're an emotional girl. It took a lot for you to not lose your faith in this world. I can't offer you proof. But you're going to face a moment of truth** **. (A Matter of Trust- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"I don't know, Elliot," Kathy huffed, tossing a towel onto the kitchen counter. "You tell me there's nothing to worry about, but you call her every five minutes, you're with her even when you're not working, and you look at her the way…" she stopped and shook her head. "I don't think I've ever seen you look at me like that." She bit her lip. "I love you, and I trust you, you know that. I just...I don't trust her."

"You don't know her," Elliot defended, shaking his head as he brought a can of beer to his lips. He rolled his eyes as he took a long sip.

"Neither do you!" Kathy shouted, folding her arms. "She's been your partner for a week…"

"And we've already beaten the record for case-closure at work!" Elliot grinned a bit smugly and took another sip of his beer, one hand falling down the front of his white tee to tug lightly on the strings of his grey sweatpants. "I can't help that we get along, that I finally have a partner that gets me. For the first time, I've got someone I can talk to...about everything. I'm not gonna apologize for that."

Kathy moved toward him, letting her arms fall to her sides limply. "I'm supposed to be the one you tell everything to, Elliot."

With a sigh, Elliot took the last sip of his beer. "No, Kath, I don't want to put the horrors I deal with at work in your head. I can't even stand to have them in mine." He walked over to the trash bin and tossed the can into it, and then stared at it for a moment. He bit his lip as he reached in for it, picking it back up. "Do we have a recycling…"

"Next to the back door," Kathy said, squinting. "You've never cared about…"

"Well, I do, now, okay?" He threw the can into the blue bin and looked back at his wife. He inhaled slowly and let it out the same way. "She's my partner," he told her. "I got a feeling she will be for a while, and I need you to get to know her, and once you do...you're gonna love her."

"Like you do?" Kathy scoffed, and then held up both hands. "Sorry, I'm sorry...okay. Fine. She...she's welcome here for dinner tomorrow night." She closed her eyes and flinched slightly when she felt Elliot give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you," he said with a smile. "She doesn't have any allergies, or anything, so you can cook whatever you already planned, and…"

"Elliot," she interrupted him, one hand up and the other on her hip, one eyebrow raised, "I know we haven't been fighting as much lately, but it's because you haven't been home. We still have a lot to talk about…"

Elliot's ringing phone silenced Kathy, who rolled her eyes and smiled peevishly. He held up a finger and shot her an apologetic look as he pulled the phone out of his deep pocket and answered it.

"Stabler," he spat, and as he listened he watched Kathy nod at him knowingly and walk away, waving over her shoulder. Staring after her, he said, "Yeah. No, I will. Got it, Cap. Thanks." He snapped his phone shut and dropped it back into his pocket, shaking his head at the stairs his wife had just ascended. "Bye, Kathy," he whispered to no one. He pulled his grey zip-up off the back of the couch and as he put it on, he shoved his socked feet into a pair of sneakers. He ran over to the door and pulled his badge and gun out of a locked side table. He opened the door, shot one more look at the top of the stairs, and closed his eyes almost painfully as he left the house.

He ran down his front steps, his wife's words ringing in his ears. She was right. He'd been avoiding talking to her about something very serious, by avoiding being home when she was, leaving whenever she came home. He ran a hand through his short hair as he clicked the alarm button on his car, hoping he could get the courage to have that conversation with Kathy before it was too late.

As he started the car, though, he let the thought go and focused on his job, eyeing the backseat in the rearview mirror to make sure his suit was hanging up, knowing he'd have to change once he got to the station. He licked his lips as he glanced at the clock, the bright orange numbers glinting in the dark truck. He let out a huff as he backed out of his driveway, and then turned the radio on as he sped off, heading for the scene to which he'd been called.

It didn't take long, he noticed, only hearing three full songs play before he arrived at the address Cragen had given him. He parked behind a black and white cruiser with its lights flashing, and got out expecting to meet up with Olivia. He was confused. She was nowhere to be found. He narrowed his eyes, grabbed his badge out of his pocket, and held it up to the nearest uniformed officer. "Stabler," he said, "Special Victims. Did Detective Benson already go in the house?"

The young cop shook his head, his officer's hat flopping to the side. "You're the first on the scene, Sir."

Elliot hummed, scratching the back of his neck. He was sure he'd heard Cragen say Benson would meet him here. Was he mistaken? Should he have gone to pick her up? He was about to pull out his phone to call her when a yellow cab pulled up to the house.

Almost as soon as the door opened, his jaw dropped.

One red high-heeled shoe peeked out, and then one long, toned leg. Her glimmering black and silver dress came into view, followed by her incredible body as she stood up, fully out of the taxi, and a small, silver purse hanging from her wrist. Her hair was down, in loose curls, her makeup done to perfection including the most perfectly glossed lips he'd ever seen. She walked with a sway in her hips that had him absolutely mesmerized.

"What have we got?" Her voice called out to him, but she got no answer. She smirked. "Stabler," she said a bit louder, snapping a hand in front of his face.

He blinked rapidly, his eyes roving up and down her body without his permission. He licked his lips and thanked God he was wearing loose sweats. He opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally asking, "Where the hell were you?"

She flattened her smile and shot him a narrow-eyed glare. "Sound asleep," she cracked. "This is what I wear to bed." She slapped him in the arm. "I was on a date, now what have we got here?"

"Date," he repeated, his heart pounding a bit harder, a bit faster. "You were on a date? With who?"

She tilted her head. "I do go on dates, you know. It's how I hope to eventually get married, have kids, a life…" she rolled her hand sarcastically. "You don't know the guy."

"Who is he?" He asked sharply with a firmness he hadn't meant to expose. "What's his name? What's he do?"

"Wow, Dad," she intoned caustically, "None of your business. Can we do this so I can get to the station and change? This is not…" she let herself eye him over, then. "Guess neither of us is really dressed for this, huh?"

He didn't laugh. He didn't even smile. He grabbed her arm as she moved to walk toward the other cops, spinning her back toward him. "Who's the guy, Liv?" His voice was lower, almost sad. "Is it serious?"

She looked at him questioningly, wondering a few things she wasn't sure she was allowed to wonder. "His name's Scott; he's a personal trainer, it's not serious, this was...it was the first date." She shook her head. "Why are you so…"

"Okay," he breathed, letting her go. He rolled the tension out of his shoulders and nodded toward the taped off townhouse. "I don't know anything more than you do, I was...I was waiting for you." He looked at her briefly, realizing that his words meant so very much.

She nodded at him once, then tossed her hair back and smiled at the same cop Elliot had spoken to earlier. "Detectives Benson and Stabler, Special…"

"I know," the uniformed man said, and he immediately lifted the tape. "You, um," he cleared his throat. "You look beautiful, Detective."

Olivia smiled as the young cop blushed. "Thank you," she said to him, and then asked, "Who called this in?"

The cop stammered as he said, "N-Next d-door neighbor. Said he heard screaming, called Nine-One-One, and when we got here...we called you guys."

Olivia thanked him and stepped under the tape, at the same time snapping on a pair of latex gloves the cop had handed her. She led Elliot up the steps and through the open door, and then grimaced immediately. "Jesus," she coughed, turning her head.

Elliot, though, couldn't look away. "This was...a lot of rage. This was personal." He eyed the scene, the victim lying naked in a pool of her own blood, the splatter patterns marring the white walls and framed pictures, and the shattered glass coffee table.

Olivia got her bearings and did the same, taking in the broken body of their victim and realizing the terror she must have felt in her final moments. "Okay," she breathed, carefully stepping over to the body. She made sure her dress stayed put as she knelt down, getting a closer look. Her eyes scanned and examined, and she gasped, backing away a bit. She took a breath and then turned to look back and up at Elliot. As she got to her feet she said, "El, this is Miranda Deacon, the…"

"The actress?" he asked, knowing the name. "Fuck, once that gets out this is gonna be a shitstorm! We're gonna have media crawling up our asses!"

"Already do," the medical examiner said as she walked through the doors. "Camera crews from channels two, four, eight, and eleven are setting up out there. You two might want to leave through the back," she quipped, pointing to both of them. "Is it casual Friday or something?"

Elliot turned and gave the woman the once-over. Her dark skin was a great contrast to her stark white lab coat and scrubs. Her long curls were pinned back into a professional bun. She was new; he'd never seen her before. "I was getting ready for bed when I got the call," he told her. He jutted a thumb at Olivia. "So was this one."

She gaped, playfully offended, as she smacked him in the chest. "Not even close, Stabler. I barely know the guy!"

He laughed, but couldn't help feeling slightly relieved. He looked at her a bit too long. She was so beautiful. Clearing his throat he pushed her aside and said, "We're gonna look around, Doc. Let us know what you get when you get it."

The doctor nodded as she dropped to her knees beside the body, setting off to work, while Elliot and Olivia began putting the rest of the pieces together. "Wine," Olivia said to him, pointing to the glass and bottle on the floor with the demolished table. "Unopened."

Elliot bent down and grabbed the bottle, satisfied that the crime scene tech had taken enough photos of it, and looked at the label. "For someone who makes forty grand an episode, she likes the cheap stuff."

"Maybe her date brought it over," Olivia suggested, her attention on a wooden unit near the kitchen entrance. "No bottles missing from the rack." She grinned at Elliot. "And here is all high-end."

Elliot gestured to a CSU tech for an evidence bag, then dropped the bottle into it before peeling back the film and sealing it. "Maybe we'll get lucky and get prints off the bottle," he said, and he reached for the glass. He gave it the same treatment as the bottle and then got to his feet. "Her clothes are…" he looked around. "Invisible."

"Probably in the bedroom," Olivia chuckled, stepping over shards of glass and splintered wood. She guided Elliot down a hallway until she came to an open door and made a shocked but impressed noise. "She was, uh, pretty adventurous, I'd say."

Elliot made his way in, stepping beside her, and chuckled when he saw what she was talking about. The large chain link and leather swing suspended from the ceiling, the red straps hanging from the four posts of the bed, and the shreds of clothing littering the floor told him that Deacon was not the girl next door the world had thought. "We need the sheets," he said to the entering crime scene crew, "The, uh, straps, and all of those clothes."

"Yes, Detective," one of the technicians said to him, and then began to collect the bits of torn fabric off of the floor.

Elliot folded his arms and turned to Olivia, who had her own arms crossed, her hands running over her arms. "Cold?"

She nodded. "Didn't plan on being out this late for this long in this dress."

Without hesitation, Elliot unzipped his hoodie and took it off, and then wrapped it around Olivia.

She glanced up at him as she slid her arms through the sleeves and as she zipped it up, she smiled at him. "Thanks," she whispered.

His answer was a grin and a wink, and he said, "You, uh, you remember you're coming to…"

"Dinner at your place," she quickly returned, nodding. She tossed her hair back with her hands and her eyes landed on his bare arms, his tattoos, his twitching muscles. "You…" she spoke, but was interrupted by a loud yell of their names from the living room.

They turned at once, and in perfect synchronization, walked into the parlor. "What's up, Doc?" Elliot joked.

Olivia rolled her eyes but laughed under her breath.

The ME held up a clear bag with a long, sharp object inside of it. "Found your murder weapon," she said. "Was still lodged in her stomach."

"Crime of opportunity," Olivia said to Elliot, noticing the letter opener in the bag matched the desk set on the table across the room, "Got an exact COD?"

The examiner shrugged. "This much blood loss leads me to say exsanguination, but professional opinion...one of the stab wounds went right through her heart."

Elliot gave Olivia a meaningful look. "Crime of passion," he said, countering her claim. "Could be both, ya know. Passionate opportunity."

She nodded and said, "We should get all of this back to the lab, Ryan's gonna have a field day with this one." She looked back at the medical examiner. "Thank you, Doctor...um, sorry we…"

"Warner," the woman said, smiling. "Melinda Warner. I'm taking over the city office, now that Rodgers moved upstate."

"Wish we could've met under better circumstances," Elliot said, nodding at her. "We need everything you can get as soon as…"

"Your reputation precedes you, Detective Stabler," Warner interrupted. "I'm not like Rodgers. I work at my own pace, so I get everything right the first time. Like you said before, you'll get everything I get when I get it." She turned away from them and got back to work.

Elliot and Olivia shared a look and then headed out of the house, through the back alley. They snuck around the block, got into Elliot's truck, and both stared at the crowd that had gathered to watch the news crews and coroner's team.

"I saw Deacon's interview on Late Night. She seemed so…" Olivia shrugged. "Vanilla."

Elliot shifted the gear into drive and made sure the CSU van was ready to follow them. He pulled away from the curb as he said, "It's called a private life for a reason, Benson. Kinks, turn-ons, fantasies...they're usually not obvious. Everyone seems vanilla until you get to the truth."

She smirked. "Oh, no. I can tell." She leaned back and buckled her seatbelt. "There's nothing vanilla about you, Stabler." She saw him get a bit red in the face and watched as he shifted in his seat. "But something tells me you've never been given the chance to find that out for yourself. Karen seems...beyond vanilla."

"You have no idea," he mumbled, ignoring her misnomer. "What about you? I don't get the missionary vibe from you, either."

She laughed, letting her head fall back. "I can be," she admitted. "But, uh, I'm…" she shrugged. "Like you, I guess. Never been with the right person long enough to get what I want." Her head fell then. "Actually, uh, aside from the guy I told you about...the one I was gonna…"

"Marry," he said flatly.

She nodded. "I haven't had a decent relationship since," she raised one shoulder and used one finger of her left hand to flick a curled hair out of her eyes. "I'm lucky to get a second date. Most men can't handle what I do for a living."

"Kathy," he said pointedly, "She can't really handle my job, either." He turned the wheel, checking the rearview to see the evidence follow them. "It's why...one of the reasons she wants us to…"

"Sorry, hang on," she cut him off, unzipping her wristlet to pull out her ringing phone. "Benson," she said, and then her eyes closed. "No, I'm at work, Mom. Yes, with my partner. Yeah, I heard about that, but Mom, I promise I...okay, okay. I will. I love you, too." She hung up and then laughed a bitter, silent laugh. "She's drunk."

"Didn't sound half bad," he offered. "What'd she say?"

"She read about that cop, Carter, Brooklyn SVU," she said, and before she could continue, Elliot spoke.

"Man, that was horrible," he said, shuddering, "Lemme guess, your mom wants you to get new locks, or move out of the…"

"She wants me to quit my job," Olivia interrupted. She saw Elliot stiffen. "Relax, I'm not going to, I just promised to be careful. She wasn't exactly thrilled when I told her I wanted to be a cop, and she certainly didn't approve of what unit I wanted...needed to be in, when I made Detective." She put her phone away and said, "So back to... you said Kristen wanted something?"

Elliot laughed, and shook his head as he pulled into the spot in the station lot reserved for him. "Tonight," he said. "I'll tell you tonight."

They got out of the car, collected the boxes of bagged evidence from the CSU on their way in, and headed through the glass doors of the One-Six, neither one knowing that Elliot would be telling Olivia more than just what Kathy wanted, after dinner.

 **A/N: What? What happens? And now that Elliot knows about Olivia's past, will he tell her about his? And someone meets the kids.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** **Oh, she takes care of herself. She can wait if she wants, she's ahead of her time.** **Oh, she never gives out and she never gives in, she just changes her mind. (She's Always a Woman- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

Olivia sat at the large wooden table, her fork in her hand poking at a piece of broccoli. She was only half listening to the conversation the people around her were having, focusing instead on the unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that she was intruding on something. Every once in a while, she caught Elliot's wife glaring at her, and she'd get the urge to leave.

"Olivia," a small voice called to her.

Her head popped up as her fork dropped to her plate with a clang. "Yes, sweetie?" She smiled at Elliot's six-year-old son, Dickie.

The boy shoved a large bit of chicken into his mouth, and while he chewed, he held up a finger.

Olivia laughed softly, noticing the similarities between the child and his father, and momentarily wondered what Elliot was like when he was a kid. She watched as Dickie swallowed, and then nodded once.

Dickie licked his lips and then spoke. "Are you good at math?"

"Well, I can add and subtract with the best of them," she said, and then gave a shrug and dramatized her face a bit as she added, "Anything else and you've got the wrong girl."

Elliot laughed at the interaction between his partner and son, but he knew Olivia was kidding. She was brilliant, he thought. He stuck his fork into a cubed potato and as he brought it to his lips, he sighed. His kids loved her, like he knew they would, and she was wonderful with them. It had warmed his heart to watch her play with them and have intense conversations with his older daughters while Kathy had finished cooking. He turned to his wife, a grin still on his face, but it faded when he noticed Kathy wasn't smiling. Not even close. "Something wrong?"

Kathy let a hard breath out through her nose. "No," she said with a clenched jaw. She stabbed at her chicken a bit too harshly and chomped on the fork while sending a disdainful look in Olivia's direction.

Elliot noticed, how could he not, and leaned over to her. "Honey, what is your problem?"

"She's...nice," Kathy spat, turning to him. "Our kids are enamored with her, Elliot. She offered to help me cook and she brought cheesecake for dessert. She hasn't said a single inappropriate or unkind thing all night, and she's not being rude, or cold, or…"

"And this bothers you because...?" He narrowed his eyes. "You're pissed off because she's nice?"

Kathy grumbled as she cut back into her chicken. "Yes," she said, realizing she had all the more reason to be threatened by her husband's partner.

Elliot scoffed, shook his head, and lowered his voice. "I thought you'd like her. You've never liked any of my part…"

"Rich," Kathy interrupted. "I liked him so much I let you name our son after him." She blinked once. "You've had a couple asshole partners, and I've always played nice with them, but this one...there's a reason I don't particularly want to throw her a damn party." She narrowed her eyes. "You know what it is."

Rolling his eyes, he finally shoved his chicken into his mouth. "Excuse after excuse with you, isn't it?" he mumbled as he chewed. "You just need to make it my fault instead of admitting you're not happy with me. I work too much, I spend too much time at the bar with the guys, now you think I'm actually cheating…"

"No, I don't," Kathy hissed, "But what scares me is that I know you want to, don't you?"

"Daddy!" Kathleen, the middle child, squealed happily, getting both of her parents to turn toward her. "Olivia knows all of the presidents in order!"

"And she's read all seven Harry Potters!" added Maureen, the oldest at ten.

Elliot's agitated frown turned into a soft smile. "Yeah, she is awesome, huh?" He caught Olivia's eyes and saw her smile back at him, a faint pink tinge to her cheeks, and he felt a thump in his heart he knew was pulling him further down a bottomless rabbit hole.

Olivia was the first to look away, knowing that Elliot's wife had probably noticed they were lingering a bit too long. "This was really...very good," she gestured to the remnants of chicken on her plate with her fork and looked at the blonde woman whose name she just couldn't exactly remember. Or at least, pretended not to for personal enjoyment. "Thank you for having me." She put her fork down, looked around at the faces all staring at her, and then said, "But I think I've worn out my welcome." She made a face and poked little Lizzie in the tummy, then tapped Dickie on the nose as she pushed out her chair.

"You're leaving?" Elliot questioned, surprise in his eyes.

Olivia nodded. "Dinner was wonderful, really," she repeated. "Please, enjoy the dessert, and you all…" she waved a finger at the four children, "Brush your teeth before bed, promise me."

"We will, Olivia," Maureen said, but then sadly asked, "Why are you going?"

Olivia let out a small sigh. "The rest of the night should just be...family," she brushed the girl's hair back and smiled at her. "I'll see you soon, though, I promise."

"Liv," Elliot called, "Sit down, please? Besides, you can't go, I drove you here," he winked for good measure. "Just stay for the cake and then I'll take you home."

"I can get a cab," she said to him. "It's not a big deal. I'll be out of your hair in no time." She looked down at her abandoned space, picked up her plate and glass, and then carried them into the kitchen.

"Nice, Kathy," Elliot huffed, slumping in his seat. "You just couldn't stop."

"Oh, you think she's leaving because of me?" Kathy chirped, offended.

Elliot gave her a pointed glare. "Well, the kids weren't the ones shooting daggers at her and asking her ridiculously offensive questions all night, so I'm pretty sure…"

"How was anything I asked her offensive, Elliot?" Kathy crossed her arms and tilted her head.

"Olivia, dear, it must be so hard being a woman in a building full of men, how do you deal with feeling so outnumbered?" he mocked, batting his eyes. "You must have to go to the gym so much to keep up with the guys because they're so much stronger and faster. You must not be much of a girly-girl, all the sweating and the getting dirty doesn't bother you? Oh, Olivia, I meant to tell you, I don't think that suit makes you look masculine at all, so don't let anyone tell you…"

Kathy cut him off again. "I was genuinely asking if she felt like the odd man out at work, sincerely asking if the job was harder for her than the rest of you, and that last bit was a compliment!"

"But no one thinks there's anything masculine about her! You even saying that makes her think she looks…" Elliot was yet again interrupted by one of his children. "What, Kathleen?" he barked, turning his head.

"Wow, chill, Dad," Kathleen returned. "I was just gonna tell you two that you could stop talking about her. She left."

Kathy's face fell instantly. "You...you heard what we were talking about?"

"We all did," Maureen told her parents. "We've heard everything, all through dinner. I think…" she bit her lip and looked toward the front door. "I think it's why she left, Mom."

Dickie innocently stared at his parents, clueless as to what had happened, shoving more potatoes into his mouth. "Where'f Olifuh go?" he asked with his mouth too full to enunciate.

Elliot closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face. "I don't know, bud, but, uh...this weekend how about you guys come with me and Liv to the carnival?"

As the kids cheered and clapped, Kathy shook her head with a disbelieving smirk on her face. "Are you serious, Elliot?"

"Kath, come on," Elliot whined, his head falling back in near-defeat. "You know I have to make an appearance, it's an NYPD fundraiser. The kids always love it! You never want to go, so this year...you don't have to, okay? And me and the kids can spend some time with Liv without hearing you badmouthing her all night." He threw his napkin down on the table and shot to his feet, grabbing his empty plate. He stormed off into the kitchen leaving his wife to wonder what was really happening to her marriage.

As he rinsed off his plate, he felt guilty. He'd brought his partner into his house, home, to meet his family in hopes she would become a more permanent fixture in his life, but all he'd done was give her a reason to leave him the hell alone. He put his dish in the dishwasher, turned around, and kissed each of his kids on the forehead as he passed back through the dining room.

"Where are you going?" Kathy asked, still irritated.

Elliot grabbed his jacket off of the coat-rack by the door and looped a hand around the doorknob. "Got called in," he lied, and he left before she could ask any questions. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipped it up, and dialed fast, hoping she'd answer.

"Hey, where are you?" he asked as soon as she said her name. "No, we didn't, no, I just...look I'm sorry. I'm so fucking...you did? Well, yeah, I guess…" he fished around in his pocket for his keys, let himself into his car, and started it. He pressed the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled his seatbelt over him. "I'm on my way over to...because I need to talk to you, and tonight was about getting to know…" something she said as she talked over him made him stop and smile. He backed out of his driveway as he said, "They are, I got lucky." He stopped the car and smiled more broadly, listening to her words. "That...wow, Liv, that means...everything to me, that you think that. Yeah, I'll see you in a few." He snapped his phone shut and drove off, heading back toward Manhattan, toward Olivia.

When he pulled in front of her apartment, he narrowed his eyes. The spot he usually parked in was taken up by a red sports car, with a vanity plate that said HOTSCOT. "Oh, no," he moaned. He rolled his eyes and pulled into the spot in front of it, and got out fast, slamming his door. He ran up the front steps faster than necessary, and he didn't bother greeting the doorman or waiting for the elevator. He jetted up the stairs, taking them two at a time at a clip. He wasn't sure why he was so angry until he pushed open the door leading to Olivia's floor, just in time to see something that nearly killed him.

Helplessly, he watched as a tall, well-built, good-looking man stood in the doorway Olivia's apartment, kissing her. Then, he knew it. He was jealous. He didn't hide the cringing grimace on his face as the man walked by him heading down the hall toward the elevator. Stepping further out into the hall, he looked at Olivia. "Was that him? Scott?"

"Yeah," she said, folding her arms and leaning up against her door jamb. "Don't look at me like that, I didn't know he was coming here, I had plans with you tonight, remember?"

"Then what the hell was he doing here?" he asked, walking over to her with heavy footfalls. "You left my house less than a half-hour ago, I left not even five minutes after you, so...what...did you call him from the taxi and tell him the coast was clear to…"

"No," she rolled her eyes and turned, heading back into her apartment. She knew he'd be right behind her, so she kept speaking. "He was standing outside my door when I got here, El. He wanted to surprise me, but when he realized I wasn't home, he was gonna leave, but saw me come off the elevator." She shot a heated look at him over her shoulder, "I told him you were coming to get me because we got called into work, so he couldn't stay. He kissed me goodbye, and that's what you walked in on, so don't look at me like that."

"That's it?" he asked, dropping onto her sofa.

"Like you said," she shrugged, walking toward her kitchenette, "You left your place five minutes after I did, so I was only here for five minutes before you showed up. That's it." She pulled open her refrigerator and grabbed two bottles of beer off of the shelf on the door. She twisted them both open and then asked him, "Why the hell does it matter to you, anyway?" She walked back to him, handed him one bottle, and plopped down beside him. "My personal life is…"

"It matters, okay?" he huffed, and then took a very long, deep drink of his beer. When he swallowed, he placed it on her coffee table and twisted to face her. "Today was pure hell. We had to dodge reporters and avoid Deacon's upset fans, we had to arrest People magazine's Hottest Man Alive, Kathy was horrible to you tonight, and then I come here to find you...with him."

"Please," she snorted and sipped her beer. "Your wife wasn't doing anything that horrible. I get that a lot. I guess I just...didn't expect it from her." She took another swig. "Whatever I did to get on her nerves, I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that I…"

He stopped her. "You didn't do anything," he said, and he rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and took a breath. "What I was planning on telling you tonight, after dinner, after the kids went to bed...I think we're heading for a divorce." He reached for his beer. "Wow, saying that out loud sucked," he quipped, taking a sip.

"What?" Olivia put her beer down and swiveled in his direction. "No, Elliot, that's…"

"I can't talk to her," he interrupted. "If you're in love with someone...if you're married...that person should be the easiest person in the world for you to talk to, know what I mean?" He watched her nod. "She's so hard to talk to, Liv. There's so much I need to say, to work through," he licked his lips. "Every time I think it's the right moment to try, she looks at me and I just...can't. I know she wouldn't understand, I know she wouldn't be able to handle it." He ran a hand across his chin and let his head fall back against the couch. "It's been so long since I had an honest conversation with her, that now I...don't really want to, you know?"

"She's your wife," Olivia moved to grab her beer again, and then pulled her feet up onto the sofa, her knees drawing in toward her chest. "Why don't you think she'd be open to what you have to say?"

He let out a single laugh. "She's been on my ass for the last eight years, since around the time Katie was born, about one thing after the other, and I can't even defend myself to her without her spinning it around on me." He popped his head up. "The other day, she tells me we have to go to some function at her father's firm, mind you the man hates me with a passion. She tells me it's next Friday, and I tell her, that's the day I've got my sit-down with Tucker, and she flips. Starts accusing me of scheduling things to purposely avoid her and her family, and when I tell her that I couldn't possibly have done that because she had literally just told me about the damn thing, she yells at me for being so overworked that she couldn't tell me sooner." He eyed her. "Now, she thinks I work too much because of…"

"Oh, I heard her," she said, stopping him. "Maybe if you talked to her, she'd stop yelling at you." She bit her lip. "Or maybe you should cut your hours and spend more time with her."

He shook his head. "That's the thing. It's not the job. I've pulled worse hours," he shrugged. "I was six states away when we first got married, and I was overseas for most of her pregnancy. I had to promise a lot of my Marine buddies a lot favors to get home in time for Maureen to…" he paused. "Two months later and I was gone again, and when I left the service and joined the academy, I was taking night classes at Queens College at the same time. I saw her and the baby for two hours a day, tops. But, fuck, we made it work. It was hard, but we made it fucking work." He looked down into his lap. "I don't know what hap...yeah, I do." He heaved a sigh. "We grew up. This isn't the life she wanted, and it's finally getting to the point where she's done trying to pretend it is."

Olivia wrapped one arm around her knees, the other stretched out to grab hold of her bottle. After she took a sip, she licked her lips. "What is it that you think you can't tell her?"

"Well, for starters, I can't vent to her about work. Nights when I get home from a bad one, she doesn't understand why I need to just watch the kids sleep, or need a hot shower. I can't tell her everything going on in my head, it...it won't do any good to scar her for life." He chuckled softly. "There are days where something triggers a memory of my dad, how he treated me, and what happened to him...and I can't bring that up, either. I've tried, once or twice, and she just…"

"What happened to him?" she broke in, her brows knitting. "I don't know anything about your family, and you know way too much about mine." She slapped him in the arm and heard him laugh.

Elliot took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes, and said, "This is rough, so...bear with me, here." He leaned over and put his bottle back on the coffee table, then wiped his damp palms on his pants. "He was a cop," he began, "It's sort of why I became one. Figured it would finally be something he could be proud of me for, but I was...I was wrong," he shrugged. "Anyway, uh, one night after a long, shitty day at work, he came home...drunk."

"I know how that goes," she said with her lip caught between her teeth.

"No, this was…" he held up a hand. "I was out of the house, at this point, in an apartment across town, with Kathy, Maur, and Katie. She was pregnant with the twins when this happened." He licked his drying lips, exhaled again, and worked his head from side to side to crack his neck. "He got into a fight with my mother, who...the day before...had made a snowman with the girls. They, uh, they used his fedora and his last Cuban cigar as decorations." He smiled at the memory, but it faded quickly. "Since he was completely shitfaced, he went looking for the cigar, and when he realized it was gone, my mom had to explain what had happened."

"He wasn't too thrilled, huh," Olivia said, scooting herself closer to him and letting her legs drop.

Elliot bit his lip and shook his head. "He was furious," his brows rose, "He raved and yelled for a good fifteen minutes before deciding to go out and buy more cigars. He didn't even kiss my mom goodbye, he just left, fuming." He looked upward, recalling the rest of the story as it had been told to him. "He made it to the smoke shop in one piece, but after he bought what he wanted and walked back out, he lit one up right away and...started having trouble breathing, and because he was drunk, he didn't think to call someone for help."

"Oh, my God," Olivia whispered, her hand twitching as she debated on resting it on his leg.

"The shop owner saw him collapse and called nine-one-one," Elliot told her, "We got the call after the cops called my mother. When we met her at the hospital, she could barely stand. She looked me in the eyes, and all she said was one word. Cancer." He swallowed hard. "Years of smoking and a steady diet of hot beef sandwiches, she said. That was it, for him. They said they caught it too late, treatments wouldn't work, there was no way to remove it all and leave enough lung behind to…" he waved one hand as the other squeezed the bridge of his nose to keep from crying. He inhaled sharply. "A month later he was gone, and I...God, I couldn't cry."

Olivia blinked back her own tears, moved even closer to him, and placed the hand that had been itching for his thigh down on his shoulder. She squeezed and whispered, "Cry now."

He clenched his eyes shut hard, pressed his lips together, and shook his head. "He never...not once in twenty-two years told me he was proud of me. He never approved of anything I did, and I was blamed for everything that went wrong in the house."

"We should start a club," she said, trying to ease some of the tension. "My mother did the same thing to me."

Elliot rubbed the back of his neck and started talking fast, anger building with every word. "My brother Kevin drew all over the walls, I took the beating. My sister Kelly took my mom's car for a joy ride, I got grounded and had to pay for the damage out of my pay from a weekend job at the video store. Sean and Eric used his stamp collection on their class Christmas cards in the fifth grade, I got hit because I should have been watching them. Elena set the kitchen on fire because she tried to dry her doll's hair in the microwave, he hit me because I should have fucking been watching her!" He finally picked up his head, the tears running down his cheeks. "I wasn't the oldest, but I was the one he chose to deem responsible for every fucking thing that went wrong in his life."

Speechless, she rubbed his shoulder again and then let her hand run down his arm. Her breath hitched, though, when she felt him snatch her hand in his. Not knowing what else to do, she held it back tighter.

"He did help us out a couple times," he said, sniffling. "He sold what was left of his stamp collection to buy us a crib for Maureen, and help us with our rent," he told her with a nod. But then he rubbed his lips together slowly and let out a disappointed huff. "But he didn't do it for me. He did it because he knew I wasn't doing enough to provide for my family, being in the Marines wasn't paying the bills, and he wasn't going to let my wife and kid suffer because I was a deadbeat."

"El, you weren't," her eyes focused on his and tried to convey her seriousness. "Stabler, you were...and are...a wonderful…"

"Yeah, tell him that!" he spat. "God, I am so fucking pissed off that he doesn't know what I made of myself. Ya know, he was thirty-six when he made detective, I beat him by nine years. He didn't get a Commissioner's Commendation until he was forty, I got my first at twenty-seven, and another one this year. He never met the twins, he doesn't know how fucking happy and healthy my kids are, or that we live in a real house, or that I'm not a screw up like he always thought!"

"He knows," she said softly. "El, he knows. Look at your arm, here, doesn't the Catholic in you believe that we all eventually end up in Heaven, with Jesus, and God, and we are able to watch over the ones we leave behind?" She lifted her other hand to his face and wiped away his tears, the way he had done when she cried in front of him. "He's up there, watching over all of you, thinking about what a fucking idiot he was, and how incredibly wrong he had been the entire time he was here with you."

Staring into her eyes, his free hand reached up fast and wrapped itself around her wrist, but didn't pull her hand away from his face. He locked his gaze on her, and slowly...so very slowly...he moved his head, bending it slightly, leaning forward, his heart hammering against his chest and pounding in his ears.

She froze, not breathing, not blinking, not moving. Her own heart was jackhammering behind her ribs, her brain yelling at him to stop, but she couldn't speak.

Just before his lips touched hers, he regained his senses and swallowed the lump that had formed in his dry throat. "You really think so?" His eyes moved from hers down to her lips and back up. He blinked once and watched as she nodded, still unblinking. He moved again, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, and then eased back against the couch. He let go of her wrist and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and then took a breath. "There are moments, Liv, where I see a lot of him in me. I'm terrified of being anything like him. I know my limits, I've come to know that I'm not a mean drunk...but, damn, I'm fucking violent, even sober."

"You would never hit your wife or your kids," she pulled her hand out of his. "You would stop, El. Yeah, you have a wild temper, I've seen you explode at work, and you do some damage to those punching bags in the gym, but that's where the difference is," she explained. "You have other outlets for it, you know when to stop. You're aware of what you're doing, and you never let your kids see you like that."

He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head to one side. "How the hell could you know…" he paused. "You've only known me for…"

"I met those beautiful kids of yours, tonight," she interrupted. "They love you, so much. They aren't afraid of you at all. They respect you, they love to play with you, and Dickie seems fascinated by the fact that your head doesn't dent when he hits it." She laughed when Elliot gave her a smile. "If you'd ever raised a hand to them, they wouldn't...why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you have any plans for Saturday?" he asked, ignoring her question and not changing the captivated expression on his face.

"I have to go to the PD carnival uptown," she said, shrugging one shoulder. "Not planning on staying long, Scott wants to take me to see some musical about..."

"Tell him you can't," he said, cutting her off, "And spend the day at the carnival with me and the kids. We can watch them try to hit the bullseye on the dunk tank. Oh! We can wait until Munch gets in it."

Olivia laughed, her shoulders shaking a bit, and she scraped her lip across her teeth. "El, I can't break my date to hang out with you and…"

"Kathy won't be there," he broke in, smirking. He grabbed both bottles off of the coffee table and handed one to her.

She waited a moment, then tapped the neck of her beer against his. As she sipped, her eyes met his, and they knew that there was something profound happening between them. They just weren't sure exactly what.

 **A/N: A rough case brings up demons from their pasts, and someone has a sweet fantasy while taking a much-needed nap in the cribs. ;) Next.**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Just a word or two that she gets from you could be the difference that it makes** **(Tell Her About It- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

Elliot was trying to focus on the case at hand, his fingers flipping through pages of the file Munch had handed him, but his mind was somewhere else. Somewhere it shouldn't have been.

He'd had an amazing dream, in the few hours of sleep he got on the lumpy bunk in the cribs. He'd gotten into another fight with his wife, and rather than intrude on his partner for the second time in one night, he'd made his way to the precinct. As soon as his head hit the thin, fluffless pillow, he dreamt of Olivia, and though morally he felt slight guilt, it was a dream he'd hoped to one day make come true.

He took a slow breath before yawning, rubbed his closed eyes, and tried to blur the images behind his lids: her naked body writhing under his, her smooth, tan skin sliding against his, her voice breaking into high whimpers from low moans of his name. He could see her hardened nipples, feel them grazing his chest as he thrust himself into her. God, he could feel her nails dig into his back, scratch down his spine, he could feel her wetness slide slowly down his thigh, and, fuck, he could feel her cumming around him.

In his dream, he knew exactly where her tattoo was and he spent a long while tracing it with his tongue. He moaned softly, losing himself in remembering how truly giving and taking and dominant and submissive she had been, and he cursed under his breath when recalling the dream caused a very real problem for him, and he tugged on his pants. He chuckled then, giving in, giving up, and letting the fantasy take over, envisioning her perfect mouth wrapping around his thick, hard length, and his head dropped backward.

The slamming of a locker snapped him back to reality, immediately, and his now wide eyes whipped toward the noise. "Hey, kid," he croaked out, afraid he'd moan at the sight of her. He rubbed his eyes again, dragging his hand down his face afterward, and he took her in: tousled hair, no makeup, her suit a bit rumpled with shirt untucked, and he noticed she was still trying to get it buttoned completely. "You just wake up?"

She licked her lips and pulled her shoulders. "No, I, uh, never went to sleep," she said, moving fast to sit in her chair. "What have we got?"

Elliot slid the file over to her without an answer, but asked an unrelated question. "You were with him, weren't you?" The words held weight and anger and jealousy and a bit of hurt in them.

Her eyes darted to his, her head dropped slightly to the left. "So what if I was?" She licked her lips and leaned forward a bit. "What I do and who I do it with is…"

"You slept with him," he said over her, finding it hard to breath. He shut his eyes tightly, again having the vision of her riding him hard and fast, panting, gripping his chest, tightening around him. He shook his head, trying to forget it, trying not to think about her doing exactly that with someone else. "Fuck," he hissed.

"I'm not a nun, Elliot," she said in a harsh whisper. And then she sighed and added, "I'm going to have…"

Jeffries' voice cut her off this time. "Morning," she said, handing her a foam cup filled with what passed as coffee in the station. "Is black too strong for you?"

Olivia took the cup from the only other woman in the unit, shaking her head. "Thanks," she said with a tired smile, trying to ignore the suggestions woven into the question.

"Hope we didn't pull you away from anything," Jeffries said. "It's all hands on deck with this one." She winked at Olivia, then eyed Elliot for a moment. She saw the emotion in his eyes, let her own drift back toward Olivia, and then sucked her lip into her mouth as she walked back to her desk, contemplating her next move.

Olivia dipped the coffee, making a face as she swallowed. "Why?" she asked, holding the cup and looking at Elliot.

He let himself smirk at her, he couldn't deny how adorable she looked. He shrugged and said, "It's four in the morning, that's as good as it gets."

Cringing, she took another sip, knowing she needed it and it was better than nothing. She dropped the cup to her desk and flipped over the page, scanning it.

Munch spoke then, Crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "Name's LouAnne Northfield," he said. "Body was found at two, when the landlord went into the apartment. Had a noise complaint, he knocked on her door, when she didn't answer, he used his master key. He turned off the radio and was about to leave when he noticed the bedroom door open; he called her name, got no answer, pushed the door open...there she was."

Jeffries took a sip of her own coffee. "Warner says there's a lot of damage, she's got a lot of healed breaks and scars. She's calling official COD strangulation, fractured hyoid and crushed trachea. This was brutal."

Olivia flipped a page of her file, stopping at the ME's preliminary report. "They're running the prints and fluids?"

"Already done," Munch said, and he handed her another folder. "That's why Cragen called you both in on this. Perp's a cop. We need…"

"Fuck me," Elliot griped, wiping the corners of his mouth with two fingers of his left hand. "Wonderful. Just what I need." He looked across his desk. "What we need."

"Well, Cap says you got the experience with internal investigations like this, and Benson came with a particular set of skills that…" Jeffries grinned. "Well, this needs to be handled delicately and she's...pretty delicate."

Elliot furrowed his brow and gave a crooked smile. "Are you hitting on my partner?"

"No," Jeffries said flatly with a shake of her head. With a smirk and a tilt, she said, "Not yet." She winked at him and spun her chair a bit. "I think you know this guy personally, Stabler. George Alphonse?"

"What?" Elliot's face came to a point as his eyes popped open.

Olivia looked at him. "Ex-boyfriend?" she teased, shooting him a wink.

It seemed to calm him in some ways and tense him up in others. He made a face at her and said, "Hardy har," almost sticking his tongue out at her. "My old partner's brother." He folded his arms. "When Luke retired and moved to Florida, his brother applied for his gig here, but Cragen didn't think he could cut it. Last I heard he was still with patrol."

Munch gave a bit of a laugh. "He doesn't have the chops for this gig," he said. "Besides, he's been a uni out of the Three-Two for going on seven years. They haven't traded out his shield by now, they don't plan to anytime soon."

"I was barely in it for two years, and couldn't wait to get out of the uniform," Olivia joked, and she shifted her gaze toward Elliot, who had narrowed his and licked his lips. She pressed her lips together and threw a paperclip at him. "Out of the gutter, you nimrod."

He chuckled, and then slapped both of his palms against his face rapidly, trying to get his head back where it needed to be. "Okay, we know when his shift starts?"

"Called down," Jeffries told him. "Vicato said he'll be on at five. Either you hang out at his pen until then, or you go to his apartment and wake his ass up. Either way, it's on you. Cragen wants you to give him the bad news."

Olivia hummed as she flipped through the pages of the file in her hands, but then made a grunting noise.

"What was that?" Elliot asked with a chuckle, pelting her with the same clip she'd thrown at him. When he saw no smile, he stiffened. "Liv, what is it?"

"She came in twice," she said of the victim. "She gave his name and a fully detailed account, both times." Her head popped up and she could feel her temperature rise. "What, we had to wait until he killed her to do something about it?"

Munch shook his head. "Cops that took her statement the first time claim she was an unreliable complainant because she was…"

"Drunk," Olivia hissed, shaking her head. "Then, of course, they brushed her off the second time because they thought she was drunk, again, and drunk women can't be raped, is that it?"

"Calm down," Elliot spoke softly, his hand coming to rest on her shoulder.

She tugged away from him. "Don't," she barked. "Just...don't." She pushed back and got up, leaving the room without an explanation.

Jeffries stood fast, as did Elliot, and they both moved to go after her. Munch grabbed Monique's hand, stopping her, and shook his head. "Let him handle his partner," he said, and he peered at her over the rim of his glasses. "We should call the guys who screwed this up, give them hell for it." He watched as Jeffries nodded and sat, but he, too, wondered why Benson had stormed out of the room.

"Liv!" Elliot called as he ran after her, but she turned and pushed through a door. "Shit," he huffed, speeding up. He shoved the stairwell door open, then, too, and ran up after her, keeping her in his sights. "Liv, where the hell are you…" he growled as he watched her push another door open and rolled his eyes. "Too early for this shit."

When he caught up to her, he was breathing heavily, hunching over with his hands on his knees. "The roof," he breathed.

"I needed air," she spat back at him, her hands curled around the high, stone ledge. She looked out over the city, the lights twinkling and shining against the otherwise black night. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she shook her head. "This is exactly what happened, ya know."

He stepped up behind her, resting his hands on the ledge next to hers, his body almost pressing into hers. He bent his head to rest his chin on her shoulder. "With your mother?"

She nodded, letting her head loll, her cheek pressing against his. "She always told me...one of the reasons she never wanted me to become a cop was because...she didn't trust them. She never told me why." As if just noticing their closeness, she straightened up and tried to move, but he had her flanked. "Back up," she whispered.

"Am I really bothering you," he whispered back, "Because I'm perfectly comfortable."

She sighed and let herself relax. "I found out why, though. As soon as I got access to it, I read her file, fuck, a hundred times. They did the same thing to her." She gave a bitter laugh as her tongue swiped over her lips. "She was drunk when she reported it. The detective who took her statement...wrote a note on the side. 'Trashed," she scoffed. "He underlined it three times." She turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Before you ask, that was once. She didn't drink at all while she was pregnant with me, and she didn't have a problem until…" she closed her eyes. "After. Because of…"

"Hey," he moved the final few inches, letting his body not only fall against hers, but react to it. "Don't even think that. Don't go there. You're not the cause of her problem."

She turned around, holding in the gasp as she felt his semi-hard bulge brush against her as she moved. In the back of her mind, she wondered what it would feel like at full staff. Her eyes turned up to meet his and she opened her mouth to speak. Unable to say what she really wanted to, she swallowed hard and shrugged. "We need to go…"

"I know what we need to do," he interrupted, his gaze growing smoky as his eyes and voice darkened. "Listen to me," he began, sounding quite dominant, "You are not the reason she drinks. You are not a problem or a burden and you...you were not a mistake. No matter what she's told you, how she's made you feel, you are here for a reason. What happened to her...it was horrible, and I'm sorry, but...it gave the world you, and God, the world needs you." He blinked once. "I need you."

She took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, refusing to cry, not again. Not about this. "I need to hear that," she breathed with a small, trembling, laugh.

He smiled at her and wiped away the single tear that managed to flow as it ran down her cheek. "I needed to say it to you," he replied, and then he backed away from her. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

She nodded and followed him back into the building, down the stairs, out through the side exit. The walk to the car was quiet, but when they reached the maroon sedan, she asked, "You gonna be okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He opened the door for her and looked into her eyes.

"You know the guy," she said as she dropped into the seat.

He closed the door, ran around to the driver's side, and when he got settled he said to her, "In passing. I was his brother's partner. I met him twice, he's hardly a friend."

"This job," she exhaled. "Makes it hard to have friends, take what you can get."

He grinned as he started the car. "I got you, kid," he said. "I'm good."

They shared a laugh as they drove toward the Thirty-Second precinct to talk to Officer George Alphonse. They weren't prepared for what they would find when they got there. Not at all.

 **A/N: The case brings up a lot of things, for both detectives, but how do they deal? It may surprise you. Then again...it may not. And Saturday? Carnival!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:Listen, boy, I don't want to see you let a good thing slip away.** **(Tell Her About It- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"Stabler!" A man in a tan suit ran over and grabbed his hand, shaking it with a laugh and a smile. "How the hell are ya!"

Elliot slapped the man's shoulder as he returned the handshake. "Brooks," he grinned. "No complaints, man." He looked to his left. "My new partner, Olivia Benson," he spoke with a bigger smile. "Liv, this is Dan Brooks, Homicide's Best."

"Benson," Brooks licked his lips as he shook her hand. "You're better looking than Alphonse." He smirked, watching her blush a bit and run a hand through her hair. He turned and winked at Elliot. "No wonder you got no complaints." He folded his arms and leaned against his desk. "What can I do ya for, man? Got a jurisdictional problem? Need me to walk in on…"

"Uh, no." Elliot swiped his hand down his tie, then gave it a tug. He glanced at Olivia and exhaled heavily through flaring nostrils. "This isn't a friendly visit."

Brooks sat up a little straighter. "Someone here…" his eyebrows rose and a hand shot to his chest. "Man, who?"

Elliot held up both hands, staving off any panicked reaction from his friend. "Just need to ask a couple of questions. Nothing to get too upset about."

Olivia combed her hair back with her fingers again, then shoved both hands into her pockets. "Did George Alphonse sign in, yet?"

Brooks, relieved, wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. "You're just here to bitch at your old partner and his brother, you scared me half outta…"

"This has nothing to do with Luke," Elliot interrupted. He stared at Brooks. "We need to know where George is."

Brooks returned his stare with a heavy moan, and then looked at Olivia. "What did he do?"

"That's what we're here to find out," Olivia said, offering as genuine a smile as she could despite feeling uncomfortably awkward. "Have you seen him?"

Brooks chewed on his lip as he shook his head. His body jerked as he twisted to his right. "Hey, Carter! You seen Alphonse yet?"

"Nah," the other cop snapped back. "Never called, either. Guess it's a no show, and another mark in his jacket. And he wonders why he can't make rank," he shook his head and then dropped his gaze back to his paperwork.

"See?" Olivia nudged Elliot with her elbow. "He does his own paperwork. It is possible."

He gave her a playfully unamused expression and said, "I bet he doesn't chew on his partner's pens, so that's possible, too," he cracked back, and then he rubbed his hand down his face and looked over at Brooks. "You call me as soon as you see him, yeah?"

Brooks nodded, but then smirked at Olivia. "How 'bout I call you, instead, beautiful? I know Stabler is a lot to deal with. You could use a break from him."

"Don't I know it," Olivia laughed, and she shot Elliot a wink and gave him a small shake of her head to let him know she didn't mean it. Not in a way that would matter to him. She nodded once at Brooks as a phone rang in the room. "Thanks."

Brooks was about to say something else, probably a bit more salacious than necessary, but Carter shot out of his seat, slammed down his phone, and looked at Brooks. "Yo! You were looking for Alphonse?"

Elliot and Olivia looked at him, then at each other. They knew.

After handing the case over to Homicide and calling his ex-partner to notify him that his brother had been killed, Elliot had taken a break from work. He'd gone home, spent some time with his kids, tried and failed to talk to his wife, and shaved before heading back to the precinct. He'd told the kids he expected them in bed when he got home, and that Olivia would be meeting them early the next morning for breakfast, and then go with them to the carnival. He'd heard them all cheer, and he'd noticed the glare Kathy had shot at him as he left the house.

He'd brought coffee for Olivia, dropped it on her desk, and waited. When she'd simply grunted at him, he'd plopped into his seat and stared at her, trying to figure out what had happened in the hour he was gone.

Ten minutes passed, and he was finally getting tired of the silence. "What's your favorite color?"

"Purple," she said, not looking up from her computer. "No, um, blue."

He nodded, folded his hands, and leaned forward. "Favorite song?"

"Benny and the Jets," she answered too fast, the first song that came to mind and not exactly her favorite. She cleared her throat and typed rapidly.

"Elton John, nice," he chuckled approvingly. "What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

She huffed as she answered him. "Pistachio, what the hell is with the third degree?" Her eyes were barely open as she tilted her head toward him, her lips tense and flat.

He was taken aback, sat up a bit and looked almost guilty. "Sorry, I was...I was just...trying to talk to…"

"Instead of asking me stupid questions, how about you help me get this shit done?" She eyed him a bit longer. "I know you had to deliver a pretty hard blow to your friend, but we still have to give the girl's parents some closure, and give what we've got to the DA." She shook her head and resumed her work, mumbling something under her breath.

One of his hands moved, before he could tell it not to, and grabbed one of hers mid-type. He caught her questioning eyes and let his head fall slightly to one side. "What's up, kid?"

She kept her aggravated facade up for a moment longer, but with one look into his blue eyes she lost her resolve and released the tension in her face and neck. "He got away with it."

"He's dead," Elliot said, brushing his thumb along the side of her hand. "How the hell is that…"

"He doesn't have to face her family," she interrupted. "He never has to admit what he did to her, or that he did it over and over again. He never has to answer for any of it." She shook her head and licked her lips, pulled her hand away from his, and sighed. "He was killed before charges were filed, so he gets the hero's farewell, and no one outside this unit ever has to know what a monster he was."

Elliot hesitated a bit before reaching out and brushing her hair back. "We will find him before he…"

"What?" She snapped at him and contorted her face into a question mark. "Who?"

"Your…" he decided against it. The piece of shit was not her father. "The man who raped your mother, kid. We're gonna find him, and everyone will know what he did, and he will have to face the consequences. He won't get off easy like George Alphonse did."

Her brows knitted together and her lips turned down at the corners. "How did you know what…"

"I knew," he shrugged. "Why do you think I was asking you those stupid questions? I was trying to distract you. And maybe also get some insight into what to get you for Christmas, but mostly distract you." When she smiled at him, a part of his heart melted and he gave her a warm grin in return. "It's almost five, we should head out to meet Tucker. We're bound to hit traffic." He hated the meetings that came with the job, but for the first time, he had a partner who wouldn't make them so shitty.

Exhaling, she nodded, and she got to her feet. She switched off her monitor and grabbed her jacket, and then scratched the back of her neck. "I'm so sorry," she said to him, "About your friend's brother. I know how hard it was for you to tell him."

Elliot waved a hand and rolled his eyes. "It's news I've given a thousand times. I trained myself not to bring personal feelings into it, ya know, we don't get to pick the vic. I still have to my job, no matter who else is involved."

"I get that," she said, and then her hand swept down his arm. "But I'm still sorry."

He felt his mouth pull into a half-smile. "Thanks, kid." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and walked, like he would with a friend, out of the bullpen and into the hallway.

"You sure Chloe doesn't mind me going with you and the kids to this thing tomorrow morning?" One eyebrow spiked upward and a small smirk played at her lips.

Elliot chuckled as he rolled his eyes. "Kathy knows that, as my partner, you're going to be with me a lot, and that means...sometimes with the kids." He turned to her, tightened his grip on her, stopping her from moving , and he said, "And she knows that as my...friend...you will be the one to come to all the things and events and dinners and shit that she wants nothing to do with, and there's really nothing she can do about it."

"She ain't happy," Olivia joked flatly.

Elliot laughed again. "Not at all," he admitted. He pushed the call button for the elevator and as they waited, he slid his arm away from her and nervously tugged on his ear. "This, uh, this thing with you and Scott…" he held her gaze, and he knew she could see things in his eyes he wasn't ready for her to see. "Is it serious?"

She shrugged. "I don't know," she whispered. "It could be. I mean, probably not, because I'm incapable of anything serious and he's…" she blew a hard breath out through pursed lips. "Nevermind."

Elliot tried unsuccessfully to hide his cheeky grin, but guided her into the elevator as he said, "Not a big talker?"

"We don't have anything to talk about," she told him with an exclamatory gesture. "He doesn't know anything about the legal system, so talking about work requires flowcharts and a dictionary. He's never read any of the books I have, his idea of an amazing movie is Blood Bath Two, and I think the last time he watched the news, it was for a fourth grade history project."

"He sounds…" he looked at her. "He sounds great."

She gave him a thwack in the chest. "He sounds horrible. But...he's nice and he's charming and he's gorgeous. So, I don't know, maybe I can learn to like ninja movies." She felt his fingers come up underneath her chin, slowly turning her head in his direction, and when she looked into his eyes, she instantly felt queasy. "Or maybe it's not going to last much longer. Because he's not…" she swallowed hard.

"Not what, kid?" He tilted his head. He moved closer to her, pulling her toward him gently, he wasn't going to stop this time. He couldn't stop himself now.

The elevator dropped and the doors opened, making the decision for him, and he cleared his throat as they backed away from each other.

Silently, they walked toward the revolving doors, heading to their first meeting, as partners, with their captain and the IAB sergeant. Nothing passed between them except a few heavy sighs, until Olivia spoke. "What's your favorite book?"

He turned to her, smirking skeptically. "The DaVinci Code," he told her.

She seems genuinely surprised as she walked with him, taking their time. "That book didn't offend you?"

He shrugged. "It's just a book," he said. "With a plausible theory about an icon that just happens to be a vital part of my religion. I'm Catholic, but I can put that aside and enjoy a damn good mystery novel." He felt his hands twitch in his pockets. "The pieces of the puzzle, the riddles, the plot it was a page turner."

She gave an appreciative nod and said, "I thought so, too. It was just so cleverly written and the way everything came together at the end was just so…"

"Brilliant," Elliot said, nodding. "I know." He eyed her for a moment. "You weren't expecting that, huh?"

Laughing, she shook her head. "I knew it was going to be a great book. You just...I can tell that in order for a book to grab you, it's gotta be good."

"Come on," he said feigning offense. "I don't give off a literary genius vibe?"

She chuckled and licked her lips. "Sure ya do! Just...ya know…you seem more like the comic book type." she winked at him. "Which isn't an insult. I have a copy of Adventure Comics my mother's father paid ten cents for that's now worth, shit, eleven grand?"

"Wait, what issue number?" He seemed excited and afraid at once. "You know?"

"Two-forty-seven," she told him, knowing why it mattered to him. "The first Legion of…"

"Heroes," he finished for her. "I have gone to a million garage sales and flea markets hoping to find that! It's one of only two that I'm missing!" He clapped his hands together and laughed victoriously. "God, Can I see it? Do you have it in a sleeve? What condition is it in?"

She was still laughing, but more at how happy he was now. "Yes, it's in a sleeve. Mint condition. You can see it, next time you're at my place you…" she exhaled and slowed her laugh. "You can have it."

His face had paled. "What? No. No, it's a collector's item that, shit, you said it yourself! It's worth over eleven thousand dollars!"

"For a collector, it's priceless," she said, bringing her shoulders up a bit. "I'm not a collector, El. You are. It's sitting in a box at the bottom of my closet, and I couldn't care less what happens to it. You…" she gave him a slight bump, shoulder to shoulder. "You care. I'd rather have it make someone happy, and I really...want that someone to be...you."

He nearly knocked her over with the force of his body rushing into hers, the tight hug giving them both goosebumps. "You…" he whispered, "Are fucking incredible, kid."

As they hugged a bit longer, Olivia felt her knees go weak, her palms begin to sweat, and she knew.

She was officially in trouble.

 **A/N: Tomorrow is Saturday? Carnival Time!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:Listen, boy, I don't want to see you let a good thing slip away.** **(Tell Her About It- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"She just gave you an eleven thousand dollar comic book?" Kathy's voice was a whisper, but the condescending fear made it waver loudly and clearly.

Elliot sipped his coffee as he leaned against the frame of the kitchen arch, grinning. His eyes were on Olivia and his kids, who were lost in a game of charades at the dining room table. "She doesn't collect them, she knows I do, it…" he looked at his wife. "It doesn't mean anything, stop trying to…"

"Eleven thousand dollars," Kathy scoffed, interrupting. "You're telling me she isn't expecting a damn thing in return?"

"What could she possibly…" he noticed the way Kathy's brow arched, the way her lips curled to one side. "Jesus Christ," he breathed, squeezing the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his free hand. "You're unbelievable. She didn't give me the comic because she's trying to get into bed with me, all right? She's...got a…" he looked back at Olivia and could practically taste the burning fury of the word on his tongue. "Boyfriend."

Kathy relaxed a bit. "Good for her," she said with a nod. "You have a wife."

"Do I?" Elliot questioned, narrow-eyed. "Or do I have a roommate who occasionally feeds my kids and washes the dishes, who would rather fight about why I chose to wear a tee shirt that's a bit too snug than actually talk to me about why I woke up in the middle of the night panicking?"

Kathy blinked at him. "I...I didn't know you…" she licked her lips and shot a glance toward her kids, as if making sure Olivia wasn't killing them. She looked back at Elliot, satisfied they weren't in mortal danger. "You slept on the couch, I didn't know you woke up. What...what was…"

"Nightmares," he shrugged. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"About what?" Kathy asked, leaning closer to him. "Me? The kids?"

Elliot shook his head and smiled at the predicament he'd found himself in, and how snugly his foot fit into his mouth. "Work," he told her, "And I know you don't like it when I try to talk to you about work."

Heaving a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, Kathy folded her arms. "I keep asking you to transfer, I can't stand knowing what you have to deal with out there."

"That's the thing," Elliot said, shaking his head. He took the last sip of his coffee and set the empty mug down on the ledge of the half-wall to his side. "You don't. You don't know half of what I have to deal with. I told you one story, about one girl, and you asked me never to tell you anything like that again."

"I couldn't sleep well for weeks," Kathy defended. "It was so…" she cringed and looked away from her husband.

Elliot chuckled disdainfully. "Yeah, that was what one story did to you. I get three, maybe four a day...worse than that. I need to vent about it, cry about it, scream and throw things...but not to you, because you don't want to hear it." He lowered his voice for the sake of the kids. "I stopped bringing it home with me for the sake of the kids, but you're supposed to be there when they go to sleep and I'm…" he paused and shrugged. "I'm not the one shutting you out, here, okay? You practically slammed the door on yourself."

"Elliot," Kathy whispered, reaching for him.

He backed away as he checked his watch. "We gotta go." He cleared his throat and looked over at her, shoving one hand into the pocket of his jeans. "We're gonna be gone all day, so...maybe go out with the girls from work? I'm taking the kids to a movie and dinner after the…"

"Excuse me?" Kathy asked with a stunned gasp.

Elliot ran a hand over his short hair. "I don't get to spend as much time with them as I want, so yeah. Just them and daddy. Is that okay with you, or should I ask your lawyer first?"

Kathy's face fell. "You...you know I…"

"I'm a fucking cop, Kathy," he laughed darkly. "You had to know someone would tell me." He shook his head, not bothering to give her a kiss, and yelled out into the living room, "Anyone going to the NYPD Fund Fair, you have ten seconds to get in the car!"

Kathy laughed as the kids all bolted for the door, grabbing their jackets and pushing through to get out of the house. But she stopped laughing when she saw how Elliot held Olivia's jacket open for her, helped her out it on, smiled at her. She frowned at the way he held the door open, watched Olivia head out, and closed the door without looking back.

Elliot made sure each of the kids had a buckled seatbelt and then got into the driver's seat of his black SUV. He glanced over the console at Olivia as he started the car. "They, uh, seem quite smitten with you."

"Oh," she laughed. "Yeah. Dickie asked me to marry him."

Elliot's eyes popped and he coughed on an awkward laugh. "What...what did you say?"

She looked at him, confused at his reaction. "I said he was way too young for me. I only date men old enough to ride a bike without a helmet." She tilted her head. "And tie their own shoes."

"Dickie," he breathed, appearing to sink into his seat. "Yeah, uh, how'd he take it?"

She smirked then, realizing. "He got over it after I told him a funny joke about a duck. You thought Scott…"

"Please, Don't say his name," Elliot whined. "Not today, okay?" He kept his palms on the steering wheel but straightened out his hands. "I don't want to hear about him, or talk about Kathy, today is just us...taking a break from them."

"Okay," she pressed her lips together and gave a wide-eyed nod, unsure of what was going on with him, and afraid to ask. "You're not the kind of guy that gets sick on roller coasters, are you?"

He shook his head as he turned the wheel, taking the car down a new avenue. "I'm a big fan of thrill rides. Why?"

"Just wanted to know if you'd have to sit there and hold my purse while I took the kids on the Zoomer." She smiled at him.

"Right, like you carry a purse," he joked. "So is it just roller coasters? Because I'm kind of an adrenaline junkie so…"

"How big of one?" She asked the question suddenly. "I used to date a guy...had a total death wish, I mean, he would skydive naked right into the Grand Canyon if it was legal." She bit her lip. "I couldn't deal with it. Even at work he, he would volunteer for the jobs no one else wanted, fully aware he could...if his life was in danger, he was happier than a pig in…" she looked over her shoulder at the kids. "Mud."

Elliot smiled warmly at the way she censored herself for the sake of his kids. He took a breath and said, "I'd go skydiving, as long as we'd land on a big cushion in the middle of a nice, sturdy, solid field. As for work, yeah, we take our lives in our hands, but not on a daily basis...and I'm not exactly thrilled about it. Besides, with you...I'm not really in too much danger, am I? You've got my back." He turned to look at her as he stopped the car. "I've got yours. We're good."

She returned his smile, nodding. "We are," she affirmed. She pointed to an empty space near the curb, telling Elliot to park there. "Everybody ready?" she called into the backseat.

A chorus of whooping hollers and cheers answered her.

Elliot laughed as he got out of his seat and he and Olivia unbuckled the kids belts. He was pleased to see that, as soon as she helped them out of the car, his twins each took hold of one of Olivia's hands. He held onto his older daughters, kicked the car door closed with one foot, and then ran over to meet her and the twins. "First stop?"

"Dunk tank!" All four of his kids yelled it an once.

Olivia chuckled and scanned the area, giving a sly lick of her lips. "El, Munch isn't in it."

"What? Who is?" He squinted to see through the crowd of people and balloons.

"Tucker," she told him, and she saw the gleam in his eyes brighten and sparkle.

"Oh, hell yes," he laughed, and he tugged his girls along faster, knowing Olivia and the twins would keep up. The group strolled up to the tank, and Olivia and Elliot shot Tucker a curt greeting.

"Stabler," Tucker said cheerfully, and he noticed Olivia. "Benson," he had a bit of a quizzical tone to his voice, wondering where Kathy was. He rose one eyebrow, then he looked at the kids. "You're all wearing matching shirts," he pointed a finger and wagged it back and forth.

"Yeah, they are," Elliot said. "We had them made at the shore last year."

"Cute," Tucker said with turned up lips. "So which one of you little Stablers is gonna try to land Uncle Ed in the water?"

"Uncle Ed?" Olivia whispered, leaning over to Elliot. "Is he stoned?"

It sent him into a bursting laugh that made Tucker tilt his head, and the he said to her, "Outside of work, he's not such a horrible asshole, you…" he lost his train of thought, and ability to speak, as their eyes locked and his heart thudded in his chest. "You just…" he took a breath and moved closer to her. "You don't know that side of him, yet."

Her focus moved from his eyes to his lips and then back to his eyes, an unknown yet powerful force pulling her toward him. Just before they got too close to be considered friendly, Dickie squeezed Olivia's hand and yelled, "Me!"

The yell broke the two apart and made them jump, each gasping a bit. Olivia's nervous laughter filled the space between them and she looked down at the boy. "Okay, pal," she said, pulling her hand out of his. She stuck her hand in her pocket, looking for cash.

"What are you doing?" Elliot asked with a knowing smile.

She shot him a look. "Your son wants to…"

"I know," he laughed, and he let go of Kathleen's hand to get his wallet out of his pocket. "I got it." He winked at her and pulled a five dollar bill out of the leather billfold. He handed it to the attendant and took the bucket of softballs from him. He gave one ball to Dickie and said, "Aim for the bullseye, kiddo!"

Dickie made a determined face, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, and he reared back, lifting one leg and tilting. He let the ball fly, his Little League pitching skills proving useful, and it hit the small, round target dead center.

Tucker yelped when the seat fell out from under him and he splashed into the water. When he came to the surface, he wiped his face and shook his head, droplets flying in all directions. He gave Ickie a thumbs up and, breathlessly, said, "Nice shot."

Dickie laughed as Olivia hugged him and his dad gave him a high-five. The rest of the kids took their turn, Lizzie and Maureen missed the bullseye, Kathleen nailed it, sending Tucker back into the pool. The kids laughed and pointed at him as he swam around like a one-finned fish, and when he settled himself back on the seat, he looked at Elliot. "One ball left," he noticed. "You gonna get even with me for that crack I made about your partner's ass yesterday?"

"Nope," Elliot said, and after seeing the relief on Tucker's face, he tossed the ball to Olivia. "She is."

Tucker's eyes widened, his mouth gaped, he held up both hands defensively, begging her not to throw the ball. He was still mumbling, "No, no, sorry, I'm sorry," when the ball sailed through the so and knocked the target back hard.

Elliot and Olivia gave each other a blindly perfect high-five as they stared on, laughing as Tucker pulled himself back up out of the water for the third time in less than ten minutes. "See ya later, Ed," Elliot spoke, gathering his kids and nudging them toward the rides.

Tucker waved weakly, thankful they were heading away and not buying another bucket.

"Did you see his face when you gave Liv the ball?" Lizzie giggled. "I've never seen anyone so scared!"

"And how he begged her to go easy on him," Maureen laughed, mimicking Tucker's gesturing hands.

Elliot laughed, too, and then said, "You guys want to go on the bumper cars?"

The four kids yelled and clapped, and Elliot shook his head with a grin. He pulled more money out of his wallet, and then shoved it back into his pocket with one hand as the other gave the cash to the woman in the ticket booth. "Thanks," he said to the lady, and then tore off the tickets for the ride, handing enough for all four of them to Maureen. "Watch out for them," he said to his oldest child, nodding in the direction of his two youngest.

Maureen smiled and said, "I'll ride with Lizzie. Katie can deal with Dickie." She kissed her father on the cheek and then joined her brother and sisters on line for the cars. He moved with a long, audible sigh, stepping up next to Olivia by the guardrails. "This is...nice."

She hummed and nodded, a small grin on her face.

He turned his head to watch his kids, grinning at them, and he said, "They wouldn't be having this much fun if…" he exhaled slowly. "If you weren't here."

"Oh, I doubt that," she said, her eyes also on the kids. She smiled as she watched them play Rock, Paper, Scissors on the line. "They love you. They'd be fine if…"

"I meant if Kathy was here, instead of you," he interjected, and then his eyes closed. "We'd be fighting, about everything from what snacks they could have to what rides they could go on, because to her...everything I let them do is fucking dangerous."

She bit her lip and looked downward. "Is it really that bad with you guys?"

"No, it's...worse," he huffed. "When we're not fighting, we aren't talking at all, and the kids...they're not blind, Liv. They know what's going on." He wiped his suddenly watering eyes. "I don't know what I'm gonna do. They're my whole world. If she gets full custody, I'll never see them, and I can't…"

"Hey, hey," she ran a hand over his shoulder and down his back. "First off, that's not gonna happen. You'll split, at least, because every judge in this city knows you and how much they mean to you. Second, you two can get through this. You've been together for eleven years, you were bound to hit a rough patch."

He scoffed and gave his eyes one last wipe. "This isn't a rough patch, this is a fucking...death trap." He chuckled bitterly. "It's been going on for years, there's just...nothing to hold onto anymore. I tried, so fucking hard, to make it work. I love her, part of me will always love her, but I'm not…" he inhaled sharply. "I'm not in love with her anymore." His head turned, his eyes locked onto hers. "I realized...I don't think I ever was. Not the way I should've been, not the way...she deserved."

Shaking her head, Olivia tried to be positive for him. "Im sure that's not true. You married her…"

"Because I sort of had to, Liv," he laughed, thumbing over his shoulder at Maureen, who was hopping into a bumper car with her little sister. "We weren't in love, we were in trouble." He gazed at her again. "I guess we still are, and now that I know what it feels like when you're really falling in love…" he sighed again and looked toward the track, finding his kids bumping their cars into each other. With a sad smile, he said, "We can't fucking do anything about it. Yet."

She licked her lips and leaned over to ask him what he meant. He'd been using "We" a lot, and she knew he meant something by it. She opened her mouth to speak, but his kids called out to her and she waved with a smile. "They really are amazing kids."

"Yeah, they are," he chuckled, watching them climb out of the bumper cars and run in his direction. He held out his hands, his older girls taking one apiece. He smirked when he watched the twins each grab one of Olivia's hands.

"Where to, Daddy?" Kathleen looked up at her father.

He narrowed his eyes in thought, and then looked at Olivia. "The roller coaster," he said with a decisive nod. It was only fitting. He knew the ride he was about to take with Olivia was going to be just as thrilling, and just as bumpy.

If he could only convince her to ride it with him.

 **A/N: The rest of the carnival, which includes a palm-reader! Plus dinner and a movie, with a fantasy for dessert! Next.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:Listen, boy, I don't want to see you let a good thing slip away.** **(Tell Her About It- Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"Man," Elliot groaned, shaking his head fast as he held one hand over his stomach. "I don't remember last year's coaster being that…" he lurched a bit. "Fast."

Olivia chuckled. "Maybe it was the two hot dogs, bag of popcorn, and half-ton of cotton candy you inhaled before you got on it."

He rolled his eyes at her, but nodded. "Kids are in the bouncy house," he told her, clearing his throat. "What should we adults do?" He grinned at her.

"Not whatever just popped into your head," she teased, wagging a playful finger at him. She looked around and then grabbed his hand, beginning to pull him toward a small booth.

He took one look at the sign and pulled back, yanking on her hand. She was stronger than he gave her credit for and still tugged him along.

"Uh, listen, kid, I don't buy into all of this…" he stopped when the dark-haired, tan-skinned woman stood up. "Um...stuff."

The woman gestured for the pair to sit. "Welcome to Madame Zamora's, I am Madame Zamora." She nodded at the two skeptical detectives. "Relax, let go of any doubt, and each of you...give me your right hand."

Olivia glanced at Elliot, her eyes telling him they were in for a good laugh or two, as she set her hand down into the woman's open palm.

"Now," she turned both hands over and studied them carefully, humming and nodding with an occasional tongue click. "Together, yes?"

"Um," Elliot blinked. "What do you mean."

"You two. Together?" Madame Zamora looked at each of them. "Palms don't lie."

"Well, we're...partners." Elliot shrugged and laughed awkwardly.

"You," she said to Olivia, "Beautiful woman, beautiful." She saw Olivia blush and shot a hard look at Elliot. "You must tell her more often, she should know."

He smiled at Olivia and nodded. "Duly noted," he said with a lick of his lips, and then laughed when Olivia rolled her eyes.

Madame Zamora continued. "Your Love will heighten your consciousness, you connect highly on a mental level and are extremely sexually compatible."

Olivia coughed hard and whipped her hand out of the fortune teller's grip.

Elliot held in a laugh as he leaned forward. "Go on."

Zamora spoke again. "You share a love of art, culture, you both hate to have restrictions and rules, you have incredibly similar needs, and require more from each other than you're ready to give." She eyed Olivia and then Elliot. "Be ready, now." It came like a command. She peered down at Elliot's hand again. "You're both energetic and enthusiastic, your relationship will never become stagnant since you both like to experiment, you're concerned with each other's wants and needs, and your own inner desires. You communicate with each other in deep, profound ways, better than with anyone else."

Olivia looked at Elliot again, catching his eyes. "Yeah," she whispered. She turned her head toward the woman. "But we aren't…"

Zamora cut her off with a harsh grin. "You are both concerned with the betterment of the world, you," she pointed to Olivia, "Always coming up with new ideas and theories, while you," she turned to Elliot, "Tend to do your best to avoid conflict unless necessary. You have a volatile temper and she…" she turned again to Olivia. "You, my dear, are calm and focused. You are born to balance each other out, when he is indecisive you help him figure out which way to turn. And when you are stressed or upset, he knows exactly how to smooth you out. Yes?" She looked from one to the other, smiling.

"Damn," Elliot slapped his left hand on the table. "Dead fucking on, isn't she, kid?"

Olivia nodded dumbly, unable to fathom how all of that could be told by looking at their hands.

Zamora let go of Elliot's hand and leaned back in her chair. "You both should certainly take on other projects together than simply your personal relationship," she grinned. She waved her skeletal hand and said, "You can make great things happen using your hearts, your shared urge for progress and the greater good. You two are an extraordinary duo for standing up for social justice or radical change in the community." She held out both of her hands, palms up, and closed her eyes."I feel that you constantly stimulate one another's ideas, communication styles, skills, and sexual energies. You bring a certain balance to any undertaking that almost no other person is able to achieve. Hold onto each other."

Olivia wiped away a tear, confused as to why she'd started crying. "Wow," she whispered.

Elliot's hand had crept across to hers, and he squeezed it as he swallowed back his own emotion. "We will," he said to the woman. "Thank you for...this."

Zamora opened her eyes and looked at him. "Do you now buy into this bullshit?" She asked the question as she held out her hand expectantly.

He chuckled and gave her an apologetic look, slipping a ten dollar bill into her hand. He stood up first and then looked down at Olivia. He ran a hand down his face as he pulled her out of her chair and led her to the door of the small, wooden booth. "That was…"

"Scary," Olivia nodded, and she slowly pulled her hand out of his. "Everything she said was so…"

"Right," Elliot scoffed. "Except she thought we were married." He laughed softly, reaching for her hand again, but didn't take it. "That stuff about our, uh, sexual compatibility…" he wagged his eyebrows.

She rolled her eye and laughed, slapping him in the chest. "Well, that's one thing we'll never…"

"Hey, kid," he interrupted, "I may be dragging through the tail-end of a marriage, here, but I can admit…" he grabbed her arm and spun her around. "She was right, wasn't she?" He licked his lips again, looked around, and lowered his voice. "I could tell you every sexual fantasy I have and you won't think I'm crazy, guaranteed you've got some of the same ones. She said...well, you heard her, we ever start something like that, it's gonna be fucking incredible."

She couldn't help the smile or the seductive look in her eyes, but she cleared her throat and backed away from him. "Maybe," she tilted her head. "But we aren't starting anything like that now." She blinked away the thoughts and turned to look at the bouncy house. "Let's go get your kids. Your wife is…"

"She's got a lawyer," he heard himself say, and then he felt the weight of the words, for the first time. "This is…" he choked back a small sob. "This is really happening. I mean, it couldn't have come at a better time, but…" he fell into the wooden bench behind him and stared at his kids, laughing as they jumped and flipped on the large, yellow balloon. "What am I gonna do? What if she...if she takes my kids?"

Olivia's heart broke as she rushed to sit beside him. "You know that's not gonna happen." Her left hand ran down his back, then began to rub small circles, calming him. "You know she wouldn't do that to you, and you know that there isn't a single judge…"

"You've told me that already," he laughed. He took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder. "She was fucking right," he spat, and then turned his head toward Olivia. "Look at us. We're exactly who and what that crazy woman said we are, aren't we?"

Olivia bit her lip. "She was right about one thing," she whispered. "The way I am...when I'm with you…" she shook her head. "I've never had someone like you in my life before, someone who just…"

"Gets it," they both said, and their eyes locked for a moment. They felt the pull, then, one they couldn't fight. Closer they moved and both heads tilted slightly. They were so...so close.

"Daddy!" Dickie yelled, breaking them apart. He was running toward his father and Olivia fast, his siblings right behind him. "Dad! That was awesome!"

"Uncle Munch got in with us and he jumped once," Maureen started.

Kathleen laughed and said, "And that was it! He said he broke something and got right out! Spent the rest of the time sitting on a bench, just counting our jumps!"

"I won!" Lizzie squeaked.

Elliot looked at his kids and stood up, then kissed each one of them on the forehead. "Did you guys have fun?"

"Yeah!" They shouted the word together.

Dickie grabbed Olivia's hand and pulled her off of the bench. "We had a great time with you and Dad, Liv!"

"It was awesome," Maureen told her father, wrapping her hand around two of his fingers. "Are we going home now?"

Elliot looked at Olivia and then back down at his daughter. "We're going to dinner and to the movies, remember?"

"Is Liv coming?" Lizzie asked excitedly.

Again, Elliot's eyes shot to Olivia's. They stared at each other, something silent but so clear passed between them. "Yeah, sweetie," he looked down at his youngest girl. "Liv's coming."

 **A/N: I know this is short, but my home and family are recovering from major flooding. I wanted to get this updated for you. There is more coming this week. Thank you for being patient, and thank you for reading.**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:You've got a way with words. You get me smiling even when it hurts.** **(You've Got A Way- Shania Twain)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"Stop apologizing," Olivia said, snapping on a thin latex glove as she stepped under a strip of yellow tape. She turned to him when he popped up beside her. "I really didn't care how the movie ended, I just loved being with…"

Their eyes locked, and whatever word she was going to say was forgotten. The call that interrupted their movie, the race to her place and then his, taking turns changing as his wife and kids bemoaned their jobs, each kissing the kids goodnight before heading back out for work, it was all forgotten and all that existed was this moment. Something happened as they stared into each other's eyes. Something important.

He smiled at her, licked his lips, and arrogantly tugged on his tie. He winked at her and started to saunter away, but turned and whispered, "I love being with you, too."

She smiled as she watched him walk toward few uniformed officers. She took a deep breath, composing herself, and headed to speak with the medical examiner. "What have we got?"

The doctor turned and looked up, almost surprised. "I thought I would be dealing with Munch and Jeffries on this one, since you had the night…"

"Busy night for the scum of New York," Olivia interrupted, a slightly threatening gleam in her eyes. "They're uptown dealing with a jumper. Tell me what you know, Doctor Warner."

Melinda Warner sighed and then looked down at the body. "Keep a handle on that partner of yours," she said, "This poor girl...she's only ten. I know he has a…"

"Yeah, he does," Olivia blinked and nodded, her own nausea rising as she thought of Maureen. "How?"

"Smothered," Warner answered flatly. "I found cotton fibers on the corners of her mouth, the inside of her lips…" she turned to look up at Olivia. "Petechia in her eyes, on her cheeks. Don't make me give you details."

"No, it's alright," Olivia exhaled. "We're gonna get the details from whomever killed this little girl."

Elliot tapped her on the shoulder with two fingers, then, getting her attention, and when she turned to him, he folded his arms. "Guy in one of the apartments across the street called Nine-One-One when he heard screaming. He looked out the window but couldn't see anything. A couple of late night joggers called it in when they found her." He rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Shit."

"Hey," she whispered. A hand came to rest on his shoulder and she leaned in, lowered her head, and dropped her voice an octave. "We just saw your kids, Maureen is home, safe and sound."

He squeezed the bridge of his nose a bit as he took a breath and nodded, and then he cleared his throat and straightened up. "We should still be with them. This is bullshit, Liv. We had the night off, and…"

"And there were just too many psychos on the loose tonight, taking advantage of their one moment without us on their asses," she interrupted with a grin, hoping to get him to crack a smile. "Let's nail this bastard, huh?"

He tilted his head as he looked at her, and just as she hoped, he smiled. "What did Warner tell you?"

Her eyes closed as she bit her lip and shook her head slightly. "Nothing good," she told him. "She'll keep us posted on everything she gets, but right now we just know she…"

"Detectives?"

Olivia and Elliot both turned their heads with eager eyes, watching the ME walk toward them. Warner was holding a clear, plastic bag, her dark, curly hair bouncing as she moved. "This might give you a solid place to start."

Olivia squinted as she took the bag, bringing closer to get a good look at it.

Elliot grabbed her wrist and tugged lightly, pulling the bag and its contents between them. "Sugar Babies, Inc?" He looked confused and prepared himself for the answer to his next question. "Is that what I think it is?" He let Olivia's wrist go, letting the bag containing the key-card drop out of view.

Olivia sighed and answered him. "Exactly what it sounds like," she said. "But they usually deal with college students, this girl is ten years old! There's no way she worked there!"

He eyed her for a moment, then slowly his lips curled. "Maybe her killer does," he spoke. "We should check them out." He turned his head to tell a short thank you to Warner before once again grabbing Olivia by the wrist. He pulled her back toward the sedan and ran a hand down his face. "I'm sorry," he breathed, "Ya know, about how Kathy treated you. At breakfast and then at...when we went back with the kids."

"You don't need to apologize," she said with a short laugh. "She doesn't know me well enough to know that I'm not really the type to steal husbands."

He chuckled. "You're not stealing me," he said as he opened her car door for her. "I'm practically handing myself to you on a platter, here," he winked, watching her get in and get settled.

Once he was behind the wheel, he let out another heavy breath. "I think…" he stopped when her phone rang. He watched with full attention as she answered the call with a short shout of her last name.

He rolled his eyes and started the car, realizing who had called her, and he tried to control the nausea rising as he listened to the one ended conversation. He couldn't shake the feelings, no matter how he tried: jealousy, arousal, possessiveness and passion...and something he refused to give a name, to make it real. He turned the wheel as he thought back to their time cut short at the theater. His hand was on her knee, his fingers tracing circles on her thigh, his mind weaving imaginings of them being bold enough for him to slip his hand into her jeans, for her to let him touch her, feel how much she wanted him, how ready she was for him. He heard her hand up and he shot up stiffly, clearing his throat. "Scott?" he questioned, unable to hide neither his disdain nor his desire, the brief recalled fantasy having done a hell of a job on him.

She nodded as she stared down into his lap. "He wants to take me to dinner tomorrow night," she blinked and turned her head. She was almost waiting for his reaction, as if it would impact her decision.

He licked his lips. "Figured," he shrugged. "You going with him?"

"Depends on this," she said, waving a hand. She caught herself and added, "Ya know, if we're working."

He scoffed and hit his palm against the steering wheel lightly.

Silence filled the car, then, for a long moment. He licked his lips and looked at her, and then he opened his mouth. "While you were changing…"

She waited, but when he didn't say anything else, she went for the dig. "You didn't watch through the keyhole or anything, did you?" She laughed, but when he didn't, she grew concerned. "El? What is it?"

He turned the wheel again, heading into the station lot, and pulled into their car's assigned space. He turned the key, took another breath, and then turned to look at her. "Kathy told me…" he paused again and then looked right into Olivia's eyes. "Are you in love with Scott?"

"What?" Olivia's eyes widened. "Back up, you were saying that your wife…"

"Please," he stopped her, "Answer the question. Are you?"

"You've already asked me that," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. She dragged her palms down the front of her purple button-down, and then over her black slacks. "I'm not good at relationships, I'm...horrible, actually. No, I don't think I'm in love with him, we haven't been dating long enough to…"

"Kathy said she wants…" he interrupted her again. "Well, you know, she has a lawyer, and she's talking about a legal separation...if we work things out, or not, we go from there. She doesn't want to file for divorce until she's sure it's the right thing to do, and we got into yet another fight because I'm pretty fucking sure she's already made up her fucking mind, and I realized something tonight that...anyway, we called each other some pretty shitty names and we shouldn't really be around each other right now, so I need to know if…" he scratched his head. "I'm gonna need a place to crash for a few days while this blows over, and I wanted to ask you...but if you're gonna have Scott over all the time...I can't watch that…"

"You're babbling," she said, holding up a hand. "Slow down." Her narrow eyes focused on his. "Are you...are you asking if you can stay at my place? With me?"

He made a face at her. "Yeah, but if Scott…"

"El," she stopped him this time. "You don't need to worry about him, okay?"

He sunk a bit, relaxing, and he nodded. "So can I?"

She took a deep breath and nodded. She watched him smile almost victoriously, and then laugh to himself as he got out of the car. Her eyes followed him as he walked, and she watched him stop, knowing he was waiting for her around the back of the car.

Her mind drifted a moment, she heard the fortune-tellers words ring in her ears. "Shit," she breathed, rubbing her eyes.

She had no idea what she'd just agreed to, but part of her was ready for it, while the rest of her was scared to death. Slowly, she let herself smirk, and she opened her door as she let herself breathe. The wind was knocked out of her almost as fast, her eyes landing on the woman standing in front of the station's glass doors.

Elliot caught her as she wobbled into him, the look on her face scaring him. "Liv, what's the matter? What happened?"

She was still, leaning against him, as her eyes locked onto the woman's face. She only whispered one word in response. "Mom."

 **A/N: Thank you all so much for you sweet messages and thoughtful words. We've cleaned up and have started the house repairs, and have dealt with a few family emergencies, and you've all helped get me through it. God bless! Much love.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N:** **I don't believe you, but I must admit, you've got all the right things to say. (Son Lux)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"And you didn't think it would be a good idea to call me?" Olivia fumed, her arms crossed, her nostrils flaring. She glared at Cragen and heat radiated from her entire body. If it wasn't for Elliot standing between her and the captain, there might've been a reason to arrest someone in the office.

Cragen glared back, but there was a sympathetic softness to his gaze, one he tried to hide. "She asked me not to," he snapped. "She's the parent, you didn't need to…"

"Common courtesy!" Her voice rose, her chest heaved, and she lunged a bit, but Elliot held her back. "Easy," he whispered gently, staring into her eyes. She seemed to calm instantly and her body relaxed under his touch.

Cragen noticed, his eyes flickering with the realization and then the bitter disapproval, but he said nothing as he took a single step toward Olivia. "Just take the favor and say thank you, and get back to work."

"This wasn't a favor," Olivia spoke, her voice softer now. She pushed away from Elliot and plopped into a chair by the office door. "Cap," she sighed, running her hands through her hair, and as she cautiously eyed Elliot, she bit her lip.

He nodded slightly, telling her that whatever she needed to say, he needed to hear. He moved fast and sat next to her, folding his hands together to keep from grabbing at hers.

"Doing me a favor would've been keeping her in holding," she told Cragen. "My mother...has a problem. She has good days...great days…" she shook her head and shrugged. "But nights like this...the last thing she needs is to be set off on her own because her daughter is a cop. This has happened a million times, and it's not doing me any favors. It's making everything…" she closed her eye. "So much worse."

Cragen stared at her for a moment, his eyes glinting with a new recognition. "I didn't know." He ran a hand down his face and cleared his throat, his white shirt creasing. "I didn't even let them print her," he admitted. "Shit, Benson, I'm sorry."

"No, no, there's…" she licked her lips and blinked up at her captain. "There's a reason you didn't know. That...that no one, um, knew." She raked her nails through her hair again and sighed. "I guess...thank you, but don't...please, if this ever happens again…"

"Yeah," he said, and he nodded at her. He watched as she got up, followed by Elliot, and exhaled slowly as the pair of detectives left his office. Once the door clicked shut, he leaned back, sitting now on the edge of his oak desk. He shoved one hand in his pocket and grabbed at something settled at the bottom. He clutched the cold metal in his hand, squeezing tightly as he pulled his balled fist back out into the open, and uncurled his fingers.

The coin was dented, the etching worn and pain faded, but it was still just as shiny, just as commemorating. "Ten years," he whispered to himself, and then he took another deep breath. He tossed the chip from Alcoholics Anonymous into the air, caught it, and then dropped it back into his pocket before looping around his desk to make a phone call, hoping the person who answered would be open to what he had to say.

Beyond the office walls, in the squadroom, the droning buzz of low chatter and ringing phones drowned out the silence that now hung between Olivia and Elliot.

He gnawed for a bit on the inside of his cheek but then spoke. "So, that was your mom."

"Hmm," Olivia hummed with a nod. "Not exactly how I thought you'd meet her." She scoffed at herself. "Not that I ever thought you'd…" she let the words hang, rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead, and then changed the subject and her stance. Straightening, she said, "We should start running a search on the men that work at Sugar Babies, see if anyone has a record."

"You don't have to do that," he whispered to her. He leaned closer, bent his head slightly, and said, "You can go. You can go talk to your…"

"I said what I had to say to her," she interrupted, her fingers toying with the black buttons on her purple shirt. She shook her head, swooped around the side of her desk, and dropped into her chair. She started typing rapidly, the clicking of the keyboard filling the space between them. He moved, closing the gap, leaning down, and reached between her arm and torso to grab her mouse. "What are you..."

He smirked, moving the mouse a bit, clicking on a link she had pulled up in a window on the screen. "Helping out my partner," he said innocently as he took a quick breath, "who just happens to smell fucking amazing."

She rolled her eyes and hid the smile playing at her lips, not willing to let him spoil her foul mood just yet. Her mother had just been brought in for public intoxication, she was allowed to brood for a while. Something on the screen caught her attention, then, and her hand reflexively cupped over Elliot's on her mouse, clicking once, stopping the scroll. "Hold it," she hissed.

"What?" He scanned the screen, trying to see what had stopped her so immediately, but coming up short. "Fill me in, here."

"There," she moved his hand, which moved the mouse, until the cursor hovered over a name that seemed too familiar to be a coincidence. "That business card didn't belong to the girl's killer."

"It belonged to her father," Elliot said, understanding now. He turned his head, meeting her eyes, and his stare darted, only for a moment, down to her lips. "We should go talk to the guy," he croaked out, his throat suddenly dry.

She nodded, her own eyes moving from his mouth to his brow and back again. "There's a couple things we should do," she mumbled, raising one eyebrow. "But…" she looked away from him. "We can't." She looked down at her watch, as if suddenly remembering she was wearing one. "It's almost nine o'clock," she shot her eyes back up to her computer monitor. "Place is probably busy as hell, right now."

"Good," Elliot said, "Less chance the guy'll give us a problem." He stood up straight and moved back so Olivia could roll her chair and get up. He grabbed their jackets and yelled something over his shoulder to Cragen, hoping it was heard. He led Olivia down the side stairwell, holding the door and her coat open for her, and when her arms slipped through the sleeves, he discreetly let his hands run over them.

God, he needed her, and it killed him. He'd never needed anyone, not like this, not so suddenly and so unexpectedly. He closed his eyes and tried to shake away the stink of desperation that somehow pervaded every pore, but he gave in when he realized the effort was not only fruitless but counterproductive. It only made him need her more because she was the one thing that made him feel less desperate now.

"You're quiet," she said, elbowing the metal door open. She leaned against it as he stepped out in front of her.

"Just, uh, thinking." He licked his chapped lips and scratched at the back of his head for a moment. "You said...you said there were things...things we should do...but we can't." He turned and looked at her with narrowed eyes. "What did you mean?"

"Well, we need to find the girl's father, we need to talk to Warner, we need to…" she watched his eyes go grey as he looked away from her. "Work," she spat. "What did you think I meant?"

He shook his head and smiled in a way that seemed to mean he had silently called himself an idiot. "Forget it," he huffed. "I didn't see you write down an address back there."

"Twelve-eighty-two Third Avenue," she spat back. "Didn't need to write it down. What the hell is your problem, all of a sudden?"

He chuckled, it came out a bitter sound with a hint of disdain. "Just get in the car, huh, kid?"

She shook her head, an annoyed expression concealing the pang of hurt he'd just caused. She opened the door to the dusty maroon sedan, dropped into the sagging seat, and slammed the door so hard the metal frame shook. She clipped her seatbelt around her, folded her arms, and sneered at him as he got in and did the same thing. "What crawled up your ass?" she asked again, her voice demanding an answer now.

"Shit," he hissed, slamming one open palm against the steering wheel, unintentionally honking the horn and startling a passing officer. "Damn it, Liv, up there...in that room, when you said...I thought you meant…" he waved his hand wildly over the console between them.

"You thought I wanted to drive?" she teased, knowing he was a bit hot under the collar and it was dangerous to play with him now, but she simply couldn't resist.

"If we weren't fucking at work, Benson, I would have…" he pressed his lips together tightly and blew out hard through flared nostrils. "You know."

"We are," she said as she tried to speak subliminally to him with her eyes, "At work. And we will be, for who knows how long, so right now, get your head in the game, okay?" She tugged on her coat sleeves, shaking her head. "You are a fucking hot-head, you know that?"

He relaxed as he started the car. "I've been told. I get it from my father." He inhaled sharply as he started backing out of the parking space, and then he mumbled an apology. "Speaking of, If you need to vent, ya know, talk about what happened with your mother...I'm here, I'm listening, I just…"

"So do you think this guy killed his own daughter?" she interrupted, staring out the window as the car began to roll a bit faster. "Or maybe a disgruntled employee or unhappy client?"

"Are you…" he let his jaw hang open for a moment as he pulled out onto the road and hit the gas. "I was trying to tell you something, and you went right back to…"

"Work, yes," she said, and then she let her annoyance shine just a bit, "Because we are fucking at work, Elliot! We can talk about whatever you think we need to talk about when we get home." She saw his eyes twitch and shook her head. "Yes, I said we, because you are apparently staying with me for a while, so we will have all the time in the world to talk...after work."

He realized then what she'd been trying to do, and he nodded, giving in. "Right," he breathed. "You're...you're right. I'm sorry, I just...I'm…"

"After work," she reminded him, but it wasn't solely for his benefit. She knew whatever he had to say, whatever it was that he was trying to get out into the open, would scare her into hiding and send her running to Scott. Safe, simple Scott. For reasons she didn't understand, and couldn't process at the moment, that was exactly what she didn't want to do.

The silence in the car became unsettling, and she finally decided it needed to end. "Well?"

He smiled, turning to her, and said, "I think you're on the right track with the unhappy client. I don't think any of his employees would have any reason to go after his daughter, you read that corporate page, they get perks, benefits…"

"We can't rule them out," she interrupted. "If any of those girls had a bad run with a client…"

"Yeah," he said, nodding, "Keep everything an option. We'll cover every base when we get there." He shot her a sideways glance, promising her and himself that they'd cover a few bases of their own, too.

After work.

 **A/N: Yes, school has started and for the past three weeks I have been driven insane by meetings, parents, students, lesson planning, and professional development. I look forward to my time to write, and I don't take it for granted at all, so thank you for waiting for this and reading. Much love.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N:** **I don't believe you, but I must admit, you've got all the right things to say. (Son Lux)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"You okay?" The question came out barely above a whisper, each small word holding with hesitation and apprehension. She bit her lip as silence answered her, her feet betraying her by taking her closer to the couch, where he sat slumped over and scowling.

Her eyes dropped to his bruised knuckles, and a small seething grimace twisted the features in her face, the moment playing back like film noir: in black and white and blood red. "You," she began, but stopped. Her breath caught when he looked up at her. The severity in his eyes made her stiffen, but the million other emotions etched into his features softened her again. "You really…"

"Sorry," he shrugged, but he wasn't sorry. He'd do it all again in a heartbeat. He had a temper, everyone knew it, and this wasn't the first time he roughed up a perp in the box. It wouldn't be the last, either, since nearly everyone who witnessed it would've done the same thing. He chuckled, then, and shook his head. "No, um... I mean, I'm sorry for scaring you, but I'm not sorry for wailing on that son of a bitch."

She took a silent breath and let her body fall into the cushion next to him. "Scare me?" She scoffed and reached out for one of the bottles of warm beer set on the coffee table. "You didn't scare me, you…" she cleared her throat as she unscrewed the top. She took a long sip and then licked her lips, trying to figure out how to explain exactly what he'd done to her, because it was definitely not fear she'd felt in that interrogation room.

"I tried to keep it cool," he said, saving her from speaking. He kicked the blue duffel bag at his feet and then turned his head toward her. "When he started talking about what he did to that little girl, the look on his face, I just…" he gritted his teeth and shook his head again. "And then the way he looked at you, and when he said…" his face reddened, the vein in his neck pulsed.

She held her breath as her hand moved, slower than she thought possible, toward his bouncing leg. Her palm cupped his knee and instantly, the jittering stopped. She felt herself tense when his eyes met hers, his head had turned too quickly to process. Her eyes stung with the need to blink, but they didn't dare. "Me?" Her voice was hoarse. Weak.

He nodded and blindly dropped the bottle from his hands to the coffee table, not caring if it landed upright. He swiveled his body toward hers and watched helplessly as his hands flew to her upper arms, gripping them tightly. "I can't fucking explain this, I don't...I don't get it."

Still not breathing, she nodded once, knowing that anymore exertion that that would lead to her fainting, or worse. Her chest burned with her eyes, now, and her throat went dry.

He gave a mirthless laugh, shaking his head, while his hands trailed down her arms to her fingers entangled themselves with hers, and he sighed, defeated. "When I was fifteen years old," he started, staring down at their dancing fingertips, "I had this dream...it was so real, I remember it like a memory." He cleared his throat and turned her left hand over in his, then started to draw swirling patterns in her palm with his right ring finger. "I was at this party, in some huge house I'd never really been to before, and there was this girl." His eyes popped up. "Beautiful, exotic, dark hair and even darker eyes," he let himself smirk at her. "I was with Kathy, I was with friends, but I ignored them all...just kept staring at this...creature. She was just leaning against the wall, a drink in her hand, staring back at me."

"I really don't need to hear about your wet dreams, Elli-"

"I think it was you," he said, cutting her off, making her freeze again. His hands stopped moving, his grip on her tightened. He saw the incredulous look inher eyes,and stammered out an exuse. "I mean, I know it couldn't have been, I didn't know you, never saw you...but what I mean is...now, when I remember that dream...the girl is you. The same look in your eyes, the same nonchalant attitude, you don't know how fucking beautiful you are."

She felt her face heat up and knew she was blushing, but she shook her head and tried to turn her eyes before he noticed. She cringed slightly when she felt his fingers cup her chin, pulling her focus back to him. Her eyes met his and everything she thought she was only imagining stared back at her, as real as can be, in his gaze. She gave him a small smile but pulled herself out of his light hold.

He dropped his hand with a sigh and shook his head as he reached for his beer. "I know, you think I'm just an asshole, looking for a way to get my rocks off, on the rebound from my failing marriage, but I swear I…"

"That's not what I think at all," she told him. She wrapped her thin fingers around the neck of her own bottle and lifted it toward her mouth. Before she sipped, though, she spoke again. "And your marriage...it can be fixed. You can work through it. You two have been together for…"

"Too long," he scoffed, cutting her off. "Liv, you have no idea what I've realized in the past couple of weeks. I don't know her anymore," he almost whispered. He took a swig of his beer and swallowed with a scowl. "She's a different person than she was when we...well, I mean, we both are, but…" he pressed his lips together and stared at the peeling label on the bottle. "My kids mean everything to me, they do, they're my whole world. But I can't stay with someone who doesn't make me feel…" he turned to look at her. The words were lost on his lips, hovering around his teeth and tongue, and he tried to give them a voice.

She tilted her head, listening, eager to hear the rest of his sentence, but he said nothing. "Makes you feel…" she dragged out the word, prodding him.

He smirked at her and relaxed, bringing one foot up onto the couch and leaning back against the arm on his side. "You know, loved. Wanted. Desired." He eyed her more sternly, his smirk becoming smoky and his eyes piercing hers. "Safe. Home." _The way you make me feel_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he felt like a fool for thinking it and couldn't bring himself to say it. "Things you should feel for the person you promised to love and honor and cherish for the rest of your life." He licked his lips and furrowed his brow. "Looking back, I…" he paused, lifted a finger, and held it to her. "I have never told this to anyone, I don't think I ever even said it out loud." He dropped his hand and told her, "I don't think it was a promise I truly wanted to make, and it's one I always knew I'd break."

"You're upset," she whispered, peeling at the sticky label on her amber bottle. "I could...I could talk to her. You don't have to feel like…"

"Christ, kid," he spat, running one hand down his face. He shifted forward and slammed the beer bottle down on the coffee table. "You're not listening."

"I'm listening," she defended just as gruffly. "Forgive me for trying to pretend you aren't trying to tell me the one thing that could fuck up your entire life!"

"My life is already fucked up!" He yelled, turning, but he softened as soon as he saw the ire in her eyes. "I'm not in love with my wife, I'm closer than I should be to my partner, whom, may I add, I haven't even known that long! Closer than I should be to anyone! And I'm pretty sure I'm falling…"

Her cell chirped, silencing the confession he wasn't ready to make, that she wasn't ready to hear, and that neither would be ready or willing to ignore.

She shot him an apologetic look, reaching for her cell and exchanging it for the bottle of beer in her hand. She cringed slightly at the name lighting up the screen. "Hey," she said, answering it. "Tired, but otherwise okay. It's not...no, just working. A lot. I know, me...me, too. Yeah, I'll call you. Bye." She hung up and sighed again, dropping her head back and closing her eyes. "Shit."

"Was that Scott?" He asked the question already knowing the answer.

She nodded but then chuckled. He called to see how I was, he said he missed me, and asked if I needed anything...and it didn't even…" she turned her head to the side and looked into Elliot's eyes. "What were you saying?"

He blinked once. When he opened his eyes and stared at her, he felt his chest tighten. He knew what he was about to do would kill the last shred of moral decency he had, but he realized he didn't care. He moved closer to her, and when he was an inch or two away, he said, "I think I said enough."

She gasped softly when he pressed his lips to hers, but she didn't move away. Her head lifted a bit, just enough for him to slip his hand behind as he scooted closer to her. One of her arms looped around his neck as the other weakened enough to let her cell phone slip away and fall to the floor.

He let out a very light moan, pulling back slowly, licking his lips. "Just…" he took a breath as he spoke with closed eyes. "Wait a minute for you punch me." He heard her laugh and opened his eyes, waiting.

"What was that for?" she asked, sitting up a bit straighter.

He shrugged and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, moving back a bit more. "I just...I guess I wanted to tell you...show you that…" he narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. "You kissed me."

Her eyes widened. "Excuse me? I'm pretty sure you're the one that…"

"No, no, I mean...when I kissed you, you didn't move or stop me or hit me," he smiled at her. "So...you…"

"That shouldn't have happened," she said, suddenly standing. "You're married, and I...I'm seeing…" she turned on her heels and knelt to pick up her phone. "We work together, we are partners, we…"

He stood fast and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him, and before she could process another thought, his lips were on hers again. Her whimper was caught on his tongue, her resolve being kissed away.

With a shuddering moan, she resigned and let him kiss her, let herself love every moment, and let the world around them fade away.

At least until her phone rang again.

 **A/N: Yes, school has started and I have been driven insane by meetings, parents, students, lesson planning, and professional development. I look forward to my time to write, and I don't take it for granted at all, so thank you for waiting for this and reading. Much love.**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: In your eyes, I see the answers to my questions. In your arms, I found the world I've waited for** **. (Leann Rimes)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters as written on the TV show, but this version of them? All mine.**

"That's your third cup," Elliot watched, worried, as Olivia simply shrugged and chugged it down, immediately pouring herself a fourth in the same mug. "I'm serious, slow down, kid."

She scoffed with a half smile on her face and gave a small roll of her eyes. She brought the mug to her lips and leaned her head back, swallowing the near toxic coffee. "If I don't drink this, I'm gonna fall asleep on the job, and we're already one foot out the door, aren't we?"

"You and me?" Elliot chuckled, a short laugh under his breath, and shook his head with a smug grin. "No fucking way, we make the entire unit look good, they won't…" he stopped speaking when he caught sight of the glare she was giving him. His face fell, his lips twitched out of their smirk.

She closed her eyes and looked away from him, set her coffee down on her desk, and sat with a low sigh, ignoring the worried look on her partner's face. "I didn't mean…" she cut herself off, let out a heavier breath, and pulled her cell phone out of her pocket.

Elliot watched as her nimble fingers tapped quickly, wondering who she was texting, hoping the idea he had was wrong. "Who...um, we're at work, so if you're texting any…"

"Scott," she said too quickly, her throat aching as the name fell off her lips. She cringed slightly, knowing that he was more irritated now, and she tossed her phone onto his desk. "Completely PG, if you want to check."

He grabbed her phone but didn't even lift it up. "What the hell is your damage, right now, huh, kid?" His brows knitted and his head tilted a bit to the left. "Why are you so…"

She turned to him and snapped in as harsh a whisper as she could without being heard by anyone else. "What happened at my place shouldn't have happened, it can't happen again, I want to just forget it ever happened, but I…"

"Fine," he retorted, pain in his eyes masked by anger and frustration. "Never happened. Now can we get back to work?" He threw her phone at her and huffed a bit when she caught it. "Tell your little boyfriend he can come over whenever the hell he wants, I'll be out of your hair."

"Oh, come on, that's not what…" she licked her lips as she exhaled, her nostrils flaring. She looked around, seeing Munch and Jeffries engrossed in some sort of staring contest with their respective computer monitors, and she took a shaky breath before turning to look at Elliot. "You know that shouldn't have happened."

"Oh, I think it needed to happen," he returned. "If I didn't do something, then and there, we'd be sitting on a pile of tension that would swallow us whole, eventually. You can forget all about it, but me? Fuck. Every time I close my eyes, I see it, I feel it, and fuck, it's…"

"You honestly think I want to forget it?" She shook her head and narrowed her eyes slightly. "We don't have a choice, though, do we? You're married, we work together, I'm seeing…"

"Scott? You've gone on four dates, all of which ended early," he interrupted snidely. Except one, he remembered, but he refused to even consider that one, preferring to forget it actually happened. "My marriage is over, you're the one that keeps trying to breathe life back into it, and I'm literally trying to the pull the plug. We can get around the work thing, but I need you to tell me what, exactly, it is that you want, because I'm getting the world's most convoluted mixed signals from you, and it's not fucking fair, okay?"

She let herself fall into his stare, then. For a long moment, their eyes locked, and everything left unsaid seemed to be understood, loud and clear, and she let the tension in her body fade. Her shoulders rounded a bit, her brow unfurled, the light her eyes came back to its usual brightness, and her lips slipped into an easy, flat line. "You know what I want," she whispered to him. "I just...don't want it like this," the words came with a bow of her head and another sad glance at her half-empty coffee mug.

"Okay, kid," he breathed, and then he fell back against his seat, his grey suit wrinkling as he shifted his weight. He bit the inside of his cheek, planning, plotting. He felt the pull at the corners of his mouth, his lips slowly curling. The longer he stared, the more he thought, the happier he became, and he knew why.

He chuckled as he realized this small fight, about nothing at all really, was over as fast as it started. They'd snapped at each other, pushed and pulled, gave and took, and then it was over with a mutual understanding of both the cause and resolution. Had this been a fight with his estranged wife, he would have had to repeat himself until he turned blue and still ended up on the couch while Kathy prepared a slideshow presentation of how and why she was right.

"What's so funny?" She crooked up one eyebrow, letting a small smile form on her own lips, finding it hard not to think his laugh was the most adorable and sexy thing on the planet.

He pouted and shook his head. "Just thinking," he said to her. He took a deep breath and sat up straight, then checked his watch. "Florist should be open, now. We can talk to the owner, find out who sent our vic a dozen dead roses." He moved to get up but her voice stopped him.

"El," she peered at him with softly upturned eyes and handed him her phone.

Knowing what she wanted him to do, he took it, pushed the home button, tapped in the four digits that would unlock her darkest secrets, if they could, and held his breath as he used a trembling thumb to tap the icon for the messaging app. He blinked once, swallowed the rising bile back, and inhaled sharply as he read the outgoing message, from her to Scott.

 _I can't, tonight. I'm working. I'm sorry._

The pressure seemed to fade but it returned almost immediately as he read Scott's less-than-pleased reply.

 _Look, Olivia, if you don't want to see me anymore, fine. All you had to do was say so. You don't have to lie about working. I get it. Have a nice night._

"Shit," he seethed, tapping away the conversation. He held her phone out to her, and as he watched her take it, he knew that some choices needed to be made, fast. He realized what she was sacrificing for him, because of him, and he hated himself for not being able to give the reasons for it any validity whatsoever.

She bit her lip, a nervous habit she couldn't quite kick, as she grabbed her coat and walked over to his side. "For the record," she said softly, leaning so close to him she could practically taste his aftershave, "Even if that...even if it never happens again...if nothing else comes of it…" she let her tired eyes meet his. "That was the best kiss of my life."

"Hey, kid," he breathed, relieved and proud. "It was two kisses," he corrected, and with a wink, he dropped one of his hands to her shoulder and squeezed lightly. "Mine, too." He chuckled at her disbelieving expression. "I'm serious," he told her, tugging lightly on her arm to pull her toward the squadroom doors. "We're talking full on, full-body, fireworks and…"

"Yeah," she nodded, "Exactly." She kept her footsteps in time with his as they moved past the people in the hallway. She reached out a hand toward the call button for the elevator as soon as she was close enough, but his low voice and hot breath hit her ear before she could press it.

"I've never felt so much, so fast," he confessed. When her eyes snapped toward him, he gasped slightly at the dark heat that had filled her eyes. "I'm scaring the shit out of you right now, huh, kid?" He brought his hand to her face, his thumb swiped gently under her left eye.

She unconsciously leaned into his touch, wishing it was permissible for them to feel the way they did, cursing every fucking social norm and professional guideline that made it all seem so wrong. Her senses returned like a whipping boomerang, she pulled back and stiffened as she gave the button on the wall a whack with an open palm. She shook her head, licked her lips, and gave her head a slight jerk, tossing her short, dark hair out of her eyes. "I told you last night," she shoved her hands in the pocket of her blazer, "You don't scare me, Stabler."

"You know, by now, that you can't lie to me," he quipped, and as the doors in front of him slid opened, he moved just a bit closer to Olivia. He was about to speak, about to admit his own fears, tell her she wasn't the only one with reservations about the desperately powerful thing between them, but a shrill voice stopped him in his tracks.

Olivia and Elliot both stared at the blonde woman stepping off of the elevator, wide-eyed and a bit confused. "Hey…" Olivia couldn't remember her name.

"Kathy," Elliot said quickly. "What are you doing here? The kids…"

"My mother's taking care of them, they'll get ready and off to school on time," Kathy looked at her husband with an odd smile on her face, one that was meant to hide shame and fear but wasn't doing a great job of it. "Can we talk?" She shot Olivia a short, pointed glare, "Alone?"

Olivia's upturned eyes blinked once, her head jerked slightly as a short scoff escaped. "Yeah," she shot out. "I'll go talk to the florist myself."

"Wait up!" Another less terse female voice called from down the hall. Monique Jeffries ran toward the elevator, meeting the trio of people. "You heading to the flower shop?"

Olivia nodded. "Why?"

"Just got another call," Jeffries said, running a hand over her curls as she gave Olivia the once over. Her smile widened a bit as she said, "Another delivery. Two dozen dead flowers were delivered to a townhouse on 57th, but the girl's out of town. Housesitter signed for them, then saw someone running out of the bushes in front of the place."

"Girl he wanted wasn't there, he saw the sitter and got scared, took off," Olivia surmised. She looked at Elliot, who was staring back at her intently. She saw Kathy shoot her another hateful glare, chuckled bitterly to herself, and then looked back at Jeffries. "Stabler, here, has personal issues that, apparently, come before work. You wanna take a ride?"

"Hey!" Elliot barked. "I'm your partner, you can't just…."

"You need to talk to your wife," she interrupted, trying not to sneer at him. "Alone," she added, then gave the call button another thwap. The doors opened immediately; Olivia couldn't get into the lift fast enough.

Elliot growled lowly, noticing Jeffries licking her grinning lips. His nostrils flared as the doors slid shut and his partner went out into the New York morning without him. He whipped his head back toward Kathy and snapped, "Shit, this had better be important."

"If you think saving our marriage is important, then yeah," Kathy spat. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and pulled him into a nearby conference room. She thought about pouring herself a cup of coffee but under the circumstances, thought better of it. She leaned against the large, oak table, crossed her arms, letting her purse fall into her lap. "You didn't come home last night."

Elliot shrugged. "Told you I wasn't coming back," he said dryly. "You're the one that told me we needed time apart, and then decided I needed to be the one to leave the house, so I assumed when you saw me leave with a packed bag, heard the door slam, saw me get in the car…"

"Damn it, Elliot, I was mad!" Kathy huffed as she ran both hands over her head, through her sun-bleached hair. "We both said some things we didn't mean, and I thought that…"

"I meant every word I said to you," Elliot interjected, his voice eerily calm, flat, emotionless.

Kathy's eyelids twitched; her lips curled downward into a slight frown. "You...but you said…" she licked her lips to keep them from trembling, took a breath to keep from crying.

"I meant it, Kathy," he sighed, one hand flying up to rub his scrunched up forehead. "I didn't say anything out of anger, or just to hurt you, everything I said...was the absolute truth." He dropped his shoulders and looked at his wife, the woman he thought he'd loved once upon a time, and he gave her a melancholy smile. "We had a lot on our plates when we were kids, we made a mistake and tried to own it, prove it wasn't a mistake at all. But all we did was bring four beautiful little people into the world while making ourselves absolutely miserable. This is not the life we wanted, and it isn't the life we deserve. We're too different, we're too…"

"I'm the same girl I was when we got married," Kathy spoke with a smile, standing upright and leaning toward him. She reached for him but he backed away, leaving her frozen. "Elliot," she breathed.

"I'm not the same guy you married," he told her. "I grew up, I've changed." He raised and lowered his arms, defeated. "The Corps changed me, fatherhood changed me, this job changed me, my…" he thought better of bringing Olivia into this, foreseeing Kathy's reaction, but it was the truth. Olivia had changed him more in a few months than Kathy had in his ten-year marriage. He shrank back a bit more. "I'm different, and I'm…"

"This isn't happening," Kathy told him. "I'm not telling our kids that their father is giving up on us, and I'm not throwing ten years away over something we can work through."

"Kathy," Elliot almost whined, "Look at me." He waited until she was staring into his eyes. It hit him then, the full weight of what shift had occurred in the universe. He tried to find, hidden in Kathy's stare, a hint of what had drawn him to her years ago, but he couldn't find a trace of it at all. Passion had become complacency, comfort turned to coldness, compromise gave way to grim acceptance, and intrigue faded into indifference. He wasn't overwhelmed by the need to kiss her, he couldn't feel the burn of her lips on his skin, and the thought of simply walking with her and holding her hand hadn't crossed his mind in much longer than he realized. His body shirked, then, and he remembered Olivia's kiss, craving another, even now. Her taste filled his mouth, her scent filled his lungs, he could still feel her hands clutching his face. He had dreams of casually taking her hand as they canvassed a scene or took a walk to the courthouse for a warrant.

"Go on," Kathy prodded, having been staring at a silent, dopey-looking Elliot for too long. "What?"

Elliot cleared his throat and brushed his sweaty palms along the sides of his grey suit pants. His body heat had risen and his throat had gone dry. "Right," he said, snapping out of his lustful, longing haze. He blinked and refocused on Kathy, his temperature dropping rapidly. "I was saying...what do you see when you look at me?"

Kathy tugged on her beige cardigan, moving her purse to her side at the same time. "My husband," she gave him.

His head shook, his eyes closed. "No, I mean...do you want to throw me up against that wall right now? Do you want to kiss me? Do you want to get me a cup of coffee, or fix my tie, or just sit with me and read? What do you see, in front of you, right now?"

"You're being ridiculous," Kathy chided, rolling her eyes.

"Answer me," Elliot coaxed. "Here, look," he stood up straighter and buttoned up his suit jacket, smoothed out his tie, and crossed his arms. "What are you feeling right now, staring at me?"

"Stupidity," she mumbled, but then she sighed. "I guess...love." She noticed his left eyebrow rise and she gave in, knowing he was asking for a reason and deserved the truth. "Frustration, a long history," she shrugged and she tilted her head. "My safety net."

"I sound like a friend, Kathy," he told her, and then he turned and leaned against the table as she had done before, crossing his feet at the ankles. "We have history, we're safe, we frustrate the shit out of each other because of it, and I can't lock myself into a relationship with someone I'm not going to feel anything really powerful for, not for the next fifty years of my life. That's not what I want for you, either."

"And what is it that you want for me?" Kathy said, tears stinging with the need to fall. "Is it a broken heart? Because mission accomplished."

He looped an arm around her and laughed softly, and said, "I want someone to look at you...and want to throw you up against the wall. Kiss you like your life depends on it, reach the parts of you I never could. I want someone to think that you are the be-all, end-all of his happiness, his reason for existing. I want someone to tell you every secret, hope, wish, dream, fantasy, confession, and mindless thought they have ever had, and I want you to the same. I want someone to talk to you for hours about anything and everything, and I want you to listen without judging him or correcting him. I want someone…"

"You want me to find my Olivia," Kathy said, a knowing look in her eyes and a resignation in her voice that seemed light, but empty.

Elliot's face fell. "Nothing's going on with me and Liv," he told her. Not a lie. Not the whole truth.

"Maybe not," she said to him, "But you have to admit, you got real close to her real fast, and I hear you talking to her on the phone, for hours, only a few minutes after you left her at work. You've told her things that it took years for you to tell me, and I hear you...tell her how afraid you are...of everything." She swiped at a tear that escaped. "You told her about your father, and you talk to her about the kids all the time...and she barely even knows my name, Elliot. You don't talk to her about me, but all you want to talk to me about is her. So is that it? Everything you said, just now, that's how you feel about her?"

He was silent, staring at Kathy with his arm still draped loosely around her shoulders. "No, I...no, but I just…" he cleared his throat, pulled on his tie with his free hand. "Maybe. But that wasn't my point, I wasn't even talking about…" he pulled his arm off of her and pressed his lips together for a moment. "I just meant that I don't feel any of that with you, I never really did, and I needed to admit it, save what we have left before it all turns into resentment and fury...because our kids don't deserve to have the kind of life I had."

Kathy sniffled, wiped her eyes again, and nodded. "I didn't really ever feel like throwing you up against the wall, either, so…" she chuckled in spite of the situation. "And yeah, I guess...before when I was looking at you… I saw more a friend than anything else." She inhaled sharply at her stunning admission. "When did that happen?"

"Our wedding night," he joked. He laughed, watching her giggle, and he said, "You and me, we both know it. We were trapped. We would've broken up if you didn't get…"

"Yeah," she nodded. She took another breath, wiped her eyes one last time, and straightened herself up. "It's been a hell of a decade, huh?"

He nodded, kissed her cheek, and said, "I'll always love you, Kathy, just not...:"

"Yeah," she repeated, the one word that seemed to come easy. "Ditto." She mimicked his actions and placed a small kiss on his cheek. "I'll, um...I'll call my lawyer." She gave him a smile and nodded once, and then left the room, unaware that behind her, Elliot's head had fallen into his hands.

He pulled himself together once he heard the elevator doors ding and whoosh open. He ran his hand down his face, feeling stubble form already. "Damn it to fucking hell," he grumbled, and then he chewed on his lip for a moment, contemplating something. Deciding, he pulled his phone out of his pocket, dialed a number he had memorized, and waited.

"Hey, is this Scott?" As the voice on the other end answered him, a vile, satisfied smirk formed on his lips.

 **A/N: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! I had to make the end just a bit scary, didn't I?**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Maybe this time, I'll be lucky. Maybe this time he'll stay. (Cabaret, John Kander & Fred Ebb)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

It wasn't more than an hour when the unmistakable sound of Olivia's aggravated grumbling and hell-clicks echoed through the hall. Elliot turned, knowingly, and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say so much as a hello, Olivia's hand flew up, close to his face, and she glared at him.

"Save it," she spat, "Honey." The word dripped with sarcastic resentment as her eyebrows twitched. "You know, you have a set of brass ones, Stabler!" Her arms flailed as she tossed off her jacket, and her voice rose again. "Where the hell do you get off telling him I'm married? To you? You told him we were on the brink of divorce, that being with other people made us realize we didn't…"

"I know what I told him," he snapped back, staring down into her wildly angry eyes, though he was eerily calm, even half-smirking. "You're welcome."

"Excuse me?" she pulled her head back and titled it, wondering how one man's head could hold so much crazy. "You think I should be thanking you? He thinks that…"

"He thinks you're a fucking decent human being, who couldn't find a way to tell him the truth," Elliot interrupted. "He also knows, thanks to me, that you were working, every time you said you were, so I don't see…"

"God, this is so…" she let out a soft growl, throwing her hands up, then walked around to her side of the joined desks. "You lied to him! Elliot, you lied to…"

"To save your dignity," he cut her off again. He looked around at the heads slowly turning away, lowered his voice, and said, "Which is the least you could have done for me." He shook his head at her silence. "I wasn't just gonna let him talk to you like that," he told her softly. "He had no right to…"

"He had every right to," she said, stopping him. She licked her lips, exhaled slowly, and fell limply into her chair. It rolled back slightly but she grabbed the edge of her desk to keep from rolling into the detective behind her. "I can't blame him, El," she whispered. "My relationships…" she paused, scoffing. "If you could even call them that," she said snidely, "Never work out. They always end because of my job, because of...other things. And with him...I would have said the same thing to him if he had been the one to cancel four dates in three days, blaming work. People don't get that it's the nature of this job, that I will always be working, that I will always choose you over them, that it will always end."

He grinned smugly at her as he lowered himself into the rolling, leather chair at his desk. "You'll, uh, always choose me, huh, kid?"

She rolled her eyes and tried to hide the fact that she was laughing and almost blushing. "You, or Munch, or Jeffries, or whomever! My partner. Work."

He licked his lips and lifted one foot to cross over, plopping it on his opposite knee. "I'm your partner, for better or worse," he winked at her. "Till death do us part, so see, I didn't lie to him. All I really need to do is buy you a ring, and if you want one…"

"El," she softened as she looked at him.

He smiled warmly at her. "Liv?"

She was about to say something that wasn't exactly appropriate for work, but when Cragen's door swung open, she thought better of it. "So the florist was a bust. Flowers were ordered and paid for by Marjorie Winthrop, the woman's been dead for three years." She jutted her chin toward Jeffries. "That one is a real peach, threatened the poor guy with obstruction and aiding and abetting identity fraud."

He chuckled. "She, uh, she's intimidating. Or at least she tries to be. Especially around you." He pressed his lips together and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "She, um...she's trying to impress you."

"Me? Why?" Olivia smiled, confused. "I'm nobody worth…"

"She's into you," he said, narrow eyes trying to reaffirm his meaning without being too forward.

"No, no way, she…" suddenly she recalled moments, things said in passing, looks, and glances, and she gasped. "I don't...I mean, I haven't given her a reason to think…"

"Relax," he chuckled, calming her with an open palm. "She knows you're straight, and she knows you're seeing someone." He shrugged. "She just doesn't know it's me."

Olivia paled, her cheeks flushed and her eyes widened. "It's not," she eyed Cragen's open door again and then leaned over toward him. "Just because you told Scott that we were…"

"It's over, kid," he sighed. "Me and Kathy...when you left, we talked, and we both realized...it's over." For emphasis, or was it proof, he raised his left hand, now ring-free.

Olivia blinked, feeling her heart pound in her chest, and she was trying to discern if it was excitement, fear, or guilt. Maybe it was all at once. She stared at the mark, the skin two shades lighter where the ring had been for a decade, and she choked on her own breath. "I'm...I'm so sorry." she dropped her head into her hands, rubbing her face and raking her nails through her hair as she righted herself again. "I told you I would talk to her, you don't have to…"

"Benson, Stabler," Cragen walked over to them and looked at them expectantly. "Where are you on this guy?"

Olivia spoke, knowing Elliot had nothing to say. "Flowers were bought with a stolen card, traced back to a dead woman," she said with a shrug. "But I'm running a BG on her, maybe we'll get a hit on a son or grandson or someone, who would have access to the cards and the accounts." She turned her head toward the computer again and hit a few keys. "The florist sent over a list of the rest of the orders on the bill, pre-scheduled for delivery, cards, and addresses of…" she stopped. "Shit."

Cragen moved fast, peering at the monitor over her shoulder. His face contorted into an odd expression.

"What?" Elliot asked. "Come on, you two. You look like you're gonna be sick. Who's the hump after, the mayor's daughter?"

"No," Olivia whispered, shaking her head. With frozen eyes and a stoic expression, she turned her head and looked at Elliot. "Me."

"What?" Elliot was on his feet and behind her, in less than the time it took his heart to start thumping. He pushed Cragen out of the way and rested one hand on her shoulder while the other gripped her computer monitor. "No, this isn't…"

"Stabler, I know she's your partner, but I'd be more careful of who you knock on their ass because of her," Cragen barked, dropping his gaze. "Besides, she's third on the list, you two'll nab him before he gets that far." He took a breath, hoping his fear wasn't noticeable. "Right?"

Elliot shot his head up and looked at his captain. "Damn right," he said with a nod. He moved her mouse, his hand over hers on the device, and clicked the search tab, making an odd noise as he scanned the page. "Three possible assholes, let's go," he huffed, pushing away from her and grabbing his coat and keys.

Olivia gave Cragen a glance and a shrug, and then mimicked Elliot's actions, following him out the door.

As he ran toward the elevator, he let Kathy's words echo in his ears. You want me to find my Olivia. He hadn't wanted to admit it, not yet, but at this moment, it was certain. He turned to face her, just striding up to him by the metal doors, and he said, "You haven't been with anyone capable of murder, huh, kid?"

"Oh, ya know, there was the one time I had dinner with Gacy," she joked. "No, I don't think any of my ex-boyfriends are serial killers."

He pulled on his tie as he led her into the elevator, smacking the button for the lobby. "Listen, uh, you kow...you just...you haven't found the one, yet. I mean, you haven't officially been with him. The one that's gonna last, make every second of your life feel like paradise, combine romance with eroticism, throw you over a table and the next minute cook you a candlelight dinner and run you a bubble bath, go head to head and come to blows in the morning and by the afternoon have you reading bedtime stories to the kids and cuddling on the couch." He looked at her and shook his head, licked his lips, and took a breath. "Your next relationship, and yes, that's what I'm calling it, isn't going to end, okay? I promise."

She rolled her eyes. "That sounds wonderful, but you and I both know that's never gonna happen."

"It is," he said, nodding fast. "I swear to you."

She eyed him strangely. "How could you possibly make that kind of promise?"

"Because," he said, and he held her stare until the lift landed and the doors opened. "It's gonna be with me." He kissed her on the cheek, and then he said, with a much darker voice, "I'm not gonna let this bastard hurt you, baby."

She was so struck by fear and awe that she didn't move when he did, and almost let the elevator doors close with her still inside of it. She ran to catch up to him, trying to wrap her head around what he'd just said, and when it registered, she smiled.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe this time things would be different.

If only she could let her walls down and give him the last bit of herself she'd kept hidden.

If they nailed their perp, tonight, maybe she would

 **A/N: What does that even mean?**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I'm a story in mourning, and you're the author so pour out your masterpiece (Neglected Space - Imogen Heap)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"It doesn't make me feel any better," Elliot grumbled, shifting in his seat and tugging on his purple tie. "I mean, yeah, we got the son of a bitch, even if…" he shook his head. "A mistake. You could have gone down because some asshole didn't Google the right girl."

Olivia rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "You were pretty insane in there," she whispered. "Because of me?"

"He raped and killed three women," Elliot said, turning his head to look up at her. "He deserved everything I…"

"El," she cut him off with a raised eyebrow and gentle tilt of her head. "I was never in any…"

He silenced her as he shot to his feet. "If we didn't get him," he said through a clenched jaw, "You would've been in danger. A lot of it. Well, no, because I would have…"

"Exactly," she said, chopping into his words once again. She gave him a sly smirk and a wink and ran her hand from his shoulder down his arm. "Relax. I'm fine." She glanced over his shoulder and stiffened. "Your wife is here." She jutted her chin toward the door, her smile now turned into a bitter flatline, and she huffed as she moved aside and headed toward the coffee pot near the back of the room.

Elliot's eyes watched Olivia's body move, but his feet dragged him toward Kathy, who looked slightly infuriated. "Hey," he said, finally turning to look at the blonde. "Why are you…"

"You asshole," Kathy hissed, slapping a stack of stapled papers into his chest.

Clutching the papers and catching his bearings, he stumbled a bit and widened his eyes. "What the hell are you…" he dropped his gaze, then he let out a soft chuckle. "Oh, uh, yeah. This."

"That!" Kathy pointed at the document in his hands. "I didn't know about that!" She sneered and scoffed as she spoke. "Why the hell didn't I know about that?"

Elliot looked around, shooting out one hand to grab Kathy's arm, and pulled her into the hallway. "Could you not yell like that, here? You do know what division this is, right? What most of the people here could think?"

Kathy seemed unconcerned with what anyone thought, her voice still raised, and she said, "Answer me, damn it!"

"I didn't know about it either, okay?" he nearly growled. Narrowing his eyes, he took a deep breath. "We weren't exactly adults, remember? My parents did this, not me. They knew...of course they knew...we wouldn't last forever."

"A prenup," Kathy spat. "Fuck, Elliot, it says that I'm only entitled to what I contributed to the marriage! That's, what, the Buick and a couple…"

"Seems like it," Elliot shrugged. "My parents didn't want you taking half of everything if they're the ones that gave us ninety-percent of it! My dad bought us the truck, my parents put the down payment on the house and helped with the mortgage...for years! And then my salary paid for it. Yeah, what you brought in paid some of the bills and shit, but let's be honest, here, Kathy, I'm paying the kids' tuitions, the car payments, that's all me. I'm pretty sure my folks knew that would happen, and they knew...this would be mutual. No reason to go after anything other than…"

"You're getting the house," Kathy whispered, "That's not...where am I supposed to go, huh?"

Elliot took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and took one of Kathy's hands in his. "I'm not kicking you out on your ass. You can stay as long as you need to, until you find a place...close by. I don't intend on keeping the kids from…"

Kathy let out a laugh, despite tears falling down her cheeks. "You...you think you're getting the kids? With this job? Your hours? Your instability?"

Elliot made an odd, questioning face at her. "I pay their tuition, I'm a solid provider, and I made a couple calls to HR, if I need them to come here after school, they can…"

"You're going for full custody? Of my kids?"

"Our kids," he corrected. "And I want joint, at the least. There's no injured party here, Kathy, why act like it? This isn't a bitter split, I'm not mad at you for anything, and you have no reason to be mad at me. Amicable, all the way." He held up the prenuptial agreement and said, "Equal, and fair." He shrugged almost dejectedly, losing his eyes. "I'm not a monster."

Kathy sniffled. "I...I know that." She wiped her eyes and let out a sob and a laugh at the same time. "Is it too late to tell you...right now, at this moment, I really do want to throw you up against the wall?"

"Wow," Olivia said, stunned, as she stood behind Kathy. "I walked into the wrong part of this conversation." She darted her eyes from Kathy's to Elliot's, both pairs staring at her, and she spoke again. "Not that I wouldn't just love to let you two go at it on the drywall, but the bastard's lawyer is waiting for you. Wants to slap you with a coercion charge."

"Shit," he huffed, rubbing a hand down his face. "That's bullshit, and he knows it."

"Hunter lives in a bullshit bubble, what'd you expect?" Olivia rolled her eyes and walked away, unaware that Elliot was following close behind her. "Fucking son of a…"

"Please, don't insult my mother," he said, grinning, knowing she was mumbling about him. "After all, she's the reason this divorce is going to be…"

Olivia turned sharply when they reached their desks, and as she clenched her jaw, she said, "Divorce? So, what, her fucking you up against the wall is a goodbye?"

"You missed the whole conversation!" he laughed, finding her sudden jealous fury amusing. "She was just...we were talking before about something that...shit, she wasn't really going to do it, and I wouldn't even let her…"

A terse voice interrupted his assurance. "Detective Stabler, you manhandled my client to the point where he'd have said anything to get you off of him. That whole confession is…"

"Oh, come off it," Elliot snapped, turning toward the short man before him. "Russ, you know damn well there were four people watching that entire interrogation, start to finish. I roughed him up, yeah, but it was after he confessed." He crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. "Try again."

"Fine," Russel Hunter looked at Olivia. "You intimidated him. After all, he has a thing for beautiful, strong women. Maybe he thought you were hitting on…"

"God, no," Olivia made a soft gagging noise. "Not even close. I came in at the tail end of it, only to tell him that he's lucky we caught him before he could add assaulting an officer to the list of reasons to stick a needle in his arm." She nodded at the file in Hunter's hand. "You should read it. It's gonna win the Pulitzer."

Hunter furrowed his brow and flipped open the manila folder. He read it, gasped, sighed, and muffled a curse under his breath. "Damn it," he hissed, and then he left the room, hoping to come up with another plan before he got back to his office.

Sharing a laugh, Elliot and Olivia looked at each other. He spoke first. "Carmichael schedule his arraignment?"

Olivia nodded as she walked around to her side of the desk. "Yeah," she breathed, sitting. She started typing into an open text window and licked her lips. "She did." She looked up at him as she flicked the hair out of her face with her index finger. "Docket's pretty stacked, calendar's full, but she squeezed him in next week, between a traffic citation and a pickpocket."

He laughed again and when he quieted he reached out a hand and straightened out the collar of Olivia's purple Oxford.

Silently, she watched, holding her breath, feeling her skin tingle as his knuckles grazed her cheek on the way back to his side of the atmosphere. When she relaxed, her smile faded, and she turned away from him and back to her computer.

"Liv," he exhaled and perched on the side of her desk, "Have dinner with me tonight."

"I've been having dinner with you every night for weeks," she joked, eyes glued to the monitor, to let him see how his words affected her. "If you can call a couple of hot dogs from the felafel guy dinner."

He let out a short laugh, but he sobered and lowered his voice. "No, I mean...come out to dinner with me. And the kids."

Her head popped up, her eyes widened, and she turned her head slowly. Silently, she stared at him, stunned.

"There's something I need to tell you," he told her, and he only hoped the look in her eyes mean she was ready to listen.

 **A/N: Forgive the long wait; I was involved in a pretty bad car accident last Monday and have been dealing with a lot. I hope this chapter finds you well, and that you had a happy Thanksgiving. (My Holiday one-shots will be up, starting this weekend!)**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Let's show them how good we are, If you look after me, I'll look after you (Neglected Space - Imogen Heap)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

Dinner had been surprisingly wonderful. Elliot had taken Olivia to his place to pick up the kids and the group had gone to a diner, nothing fancy but perfect for the occasion. The children had told Olivia stories about their day at school, filling her in on subjects and teachers, friends and enemies, and hallway drama. They laughed and talked for hours, and after dessert of shared brownie sundaes, they had ridden home singing along with the radio. Elliot had been impressed at how many songs Olivia knew and the kids had been thrilled by the fact that no one was yelling at them for being too loud, or complaining about the music the way their mother had always done.

Now, back at the Stabler house, she stood awkwardly in the space between the front door and the living room. There was an awkward silence between her and Kathy, who was busying herself with straightening the couch cushions as Elliot finished getting his kids settled upstairs.

Olivia's eyes shot hopefully to the staircase at the first sound of a creaky footstep, desperate to get out of there, hating the fact that he was her ride and Queens wasn't within walking distance of her Manhattan apartment. Her hopes were dashed when no one appeared at the top of the stairs. She exhaled and shifted her weight impatiently.

"Did he tell you?" Kathy's voice spoke, but her head remained down, her eyes trained on the square pillow in her hands.

Olivia hesitated, unsure if Kathy was talking to her or not. "Sorry," she mumbled, "Tell me what?"

Kathy set the pillow on the couch, turned to face Olivia, and gave a small smile. "About the divorce."

"Oh," Olivia nodded and licked her lips, discomfort rising. She pulled on the sleeves of her leather coat and cleared her throat. "Yeah, he did. I told him things would work out, that I would...talk to you." She blinked once. "You and the kids mean...everything to him. I'll try to convince him to tell Cragen to cut his hours, or…"

"What are you doing?" Kathy's brows knitted together, her arms crossed over her white thread-braid sweater, and she shook her head. "You should be doing a little happy dance, shouldn't you?"

Olivia scoffed, one brow arcing high. "Myoartner's crumbling life isn't something that makes me happy, no," she said, mildly offended. "You can work things out, I'm sure that you…"

"Olivia, I'm not blind, or stupid," Kathy said snidely. "Please, don't placate, here. He told me. About you." She hummed and tilted her head. "Well, not in so many words, but my point…" she took two steps toward Olivia, her smile becoming more menacing and less warm, "...is that our problems aren't just his work hours, or his temper, or his penchant for fast cars and expensive suits." She chuckled, her head moving back and forth bitterly. "Those things could be fixed, overlooked, but you…" she pointed a long, thin finger, its nail perfectly shaped, filed, and polished. "You are the one thing this marriage can't overcome." She shrugged. "And I'm okay with that."

"Me?" Olivia paled, her throat and mouth dry. Elliot told his wife about the kiss, she assumed that had to be the case. "Oh, wait, Kathy...he had a lapse in judgment, okay? After a long, very hard case…"

"He didn't have a nine-month-long lapse in judgment, Olivia," Kathy laughed. "He's in love with you. More than he has ever been, or could ever be...with me. You give him things that I couldn't. I can't, or won't. You've reached the space in him that I never found, or ignored, or never even knew existed." She saw the baffled expression on Olivia's face, the tears fighting for formation in her eyes. Suddenly, she felt guilty, almost scared. "He hasn't told you?"

"I was planning on it," Elliot's cold voice spoke, breaking the tension between the two women. When Kathy turned to look at him, he gave her a glare that he usually reserved for people he was about to punch. "What the hell, Kath?"

"I thought she knew!" Kathy defended. "I was getting in a few parting shots, and I swear, I thought you told her."

"She is standing right here!" Olivia barked, her stance stern. "Can the two of you please…"

"Liv," Elliot pushed between Kathy and Olivia, his hands shooting toward her shoulders to grip them firmly.

Olivia inhaled quickly, her lugs filling instantly with the scent of his cologne. She looked him up and down, realizing he'd changed out of his suit and into a pair of sweats and a Queens College tee shirt. Her lungs burned, alerting her to the fact she'd stopped breathing, and her head slowly rose, her eyes now pouring into his stunning blue ones. "What?" she managed to croak out, trying not to sound aroused.

He held her gaze, ignoring the huffing coming from Kathy, behind him. "That's what...what I wanted to tell you, later, when we...when we got back to your place I was gonna…" he cleared his throat. "Tell you. That. What she said, ya know, that I…"

"Don't," she stopped him, holding up one hand and averting her gaze. "Kathy, look, I'll talk him out of this, I swear I…"

"Talk me out of it?" Elliot's voice rose, his nostrils flared as he reestablished his hold on Olivia. "Christ, you can't talk me out of this! You just…"

She glared at him and gritted her teeth, trying to convey her seriousness. "I am not having this conversation in front of your wife!" she growled lowly, darting her eyes in Kathy's direction.

Elliot balked, backed up, and turned his head. "Oh, uh, yeah, hi," he nodded at Kathy.

Kathy gave them both an amused nod. "Evening," she teased, "You can...go now. Talk. Or don't talk." She winked, knowing it made them both more uncomfortable, but reveling in it. She felt that she'd earned the right to be a little bitter. "Elliot, nothing about this is...hard," she said a bit less snarkily. "The only thing that might be a challenge is custody, and that's not on me. The judge might consider your job, your…"

"I know," Elliot nodded, not willing to really talk about it.

"See?" Olivia chimed in. "This is why, okay? You need to think about what you're doing, what's at stake, here. Your kids, your job, your entire life…"

"It'll work itself out," he interrupted, and then he lowered his voice, leaned closer to her, and whispered, "There's so much more at stake if I let you go, you have to know that." He tried to smile. "We get the right judge, I'll get joint custody, I'm not an absentee father or a neglectful one, and with, uh, one hell of a character witness statement from my partner." He saw her lips curl slightly and whispered, "You can't tell me this isn't what you want, too."

She blinked, swallowed the lump that had built in her throat, and meekly turned away. Looking again at Kathy, she said, "I'm sorry, and then made an abrupt exit, flinging herself out of the front door.

Elliot sighed, scratched his head, and said, "Me, too." He shrugged as he grabbed his coat off of the hook by the door. "My lawyer will…"

"Mine, too," Kathy said quickly. "And I'll...be out of here...soon."

"Hey, take your time," he said. "Amicable, remember? You're still family, just not…"

Kathy's lips formed the words but no sound came out. "Your wife," she mouthed with a nod.

"I'll pick the kids up tomorrow morning," he told her as he buttoned his wool coat. "Church, breakfast, and then…"

"Is she going?" Kathy pointed to the still-open door, an obvious gesture to Olivia. "She doesn't strike me as the Church type."

Elliot frowned. "Um, I didn't...I didn't ask." He whipped his scarf around his neck and gave Kathy a quick kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Kath. Thanks." He turned and ran out the door, down his porch steps, and met Olivia by the passenger side of the car. He stretched out, one hand on either side of her, palms pressed into the hood of the car.

"Never...do that to me again," she scolded, her lips begging to smirk. "You just left me alone, with your…"

He kissed her, silencing her, and grinned smugly against her lips as he felt her sink into him. He moaned when her mouth opened just enough to let his tongue sweep in, over hers.

Her hands shook and her knees trembled as she looped her arms around his neck in sweet submission. She gave in, a few moments of ignoring the consequences, letting go of the fear. She felt him pull away and as she opened her eyes, she saw his lips move, words she couldn't hear but understood perfectly. All she could do was nod.

"Are you sure?" he asked, this time knowing her ears weren't ringing, that he had her attention. "I don't want you to freak out on me again, or think I'm...what did you say? Having a lapse in judgment?"

"I was trying to save…" she breathed deeply, and then said, "I didn't know how serious you were. You really...this is what you want?"

"You tell me," he said sultrily, leaning in and kissing her once more. He let his lips linger on hers as he spoke, their frigid, panting breaths making white clouds in the air. "If you want me, you got me, but you gotta let me know, now, because you've already got enough of me to break my heart, here, Liv."

She didn't answer him, not with words. Instead, her answer was another deep kiss, her hands traveling down from his neck to his lower back, and she pulled herself tighter against him.

"I know," he garbled on a breath, "What you're worried about." He kissed her again, and then said, "Ed told me, this wouldn't put our jobs on the line, not...not on its own. If we start having problems, there are complications that…" he shook it off, trusting that they wouldn't have any. "They can't fire us for this."

"Cragen would," she countered, a worried look on her face, but she bit her lip and said, "So maybe we don't tell him."

He grinned at her and then slid one hand down to the handle of the door, pulled on it, and kissed her again as he opened it for her. He licked his lips as she slid into the seat, and as he closed the door, his phone rang. "No," he moaned, closing his eyes. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and answered with a sharp, "Stabler," as he ran around to the driver's side.

Getting in, he was silent, listening. He jammed the key into the ignition and turned, but didn't shift gears. "Yeah, okay, um...thank you. No, I get it, I'll take her. Thanks, Cap."

"Take her," Olivia repeated, watching him, "Her meaning me? Take me? Where?"

He exhaled, long and slow. "Central Booking," he said. "Your mother...they got her on another D and D, and you told them not to…"

"Drive," she hissed, flopping herself backward in the seat. "Damnit!" Her breathing was heavy, fast, annoyed. There was silence as they pulled out of the driveway and onto the road, and they'd spent a few minutes with nothing but tense and ragged space between theme.

"Hey, El?" She spoke, but stared to her right, looking out the window. She heard him hum an inquisitive response. "I think...I love you, too."

 **A/N: I hope you're all having a wonderful holiday season so far, and as always, thanks for reading!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Let's show them how good we are, If you look after me, I'll look after you (Neglected Space - Imogen Heap)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

Olivia sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sweater cuffs, which were covering most of her hands. "Fuck," she hissed, hating the fact that she was crying, and hating the reason why even more.

Elliot noticed, but he tried for her sake to pretend he didn't. This was a part of her, a side of her, that she'd always kept well hidden. Her hurt and her weaknesses were kept close to the chest, and he knew he was the only one to ever be privy to them. With a discretion that wavered on inconceivable, he slipped an arm around her and pulled her just slightly closer to him. He turned and kissed the side of her head, closing his eyes. "I'm right here."

She nodded, tensing her jaw and shoulders with the resolution to stop crying. "I thought this was over," she whispered to him. There was a crack in her voice that she hoped went unheard.

"She's your mother," he whispered back. He brushed her hair behind her ear and kissed her temple again, letting his lips linger there as his eyes slowly opened. He felt her stiffen, could tell her body shifted against his, and he looked down at her. "Baby, what…"

"Mom," she hissed, quickly taking a breath, unable to let her mother have any idea that she'd been crying. She would never give her the satisfaction again. Her body wouldn't budge as she tried to rise, and she quickly realized it was because Elliot was gripping her tightly. "El, I need to…"

"Wait," he said fast, and then nodded toward her mother. "Trust me."

Serena Benson stepped over to them, a dejected and somewhat shy look on her face, her paper envelope of belongings clutched in her trembling hands. "Liv, Darling, I am so…"

"Don't even bother saying it, Mom," she sighed, shaking her head. She flicked her bangs out of her face with one finger, letting the last sniffle escape. "You're not sorry, if you were sorry, you wouldn't have done it. You...this is part of who you are, because of…" she shook her head and stood up. "But I know you're trying, Mom."

Serena nodded sadly. "I am," she whispered. Her head tilted and a small, confused grin, and her head stayed still but her eyes darted to her left. "Hello, Elliot," she said.

Elliot smiled and gave a slight wave of his hand as he, too, got to his feet, and as if challenging her, he swung his right arm around Olivia's waist. He noticed that the action only made Serena smile a bit wider, which left him both confused and relieved. "You all set?" His voice was higher than normal, taking on a tone he would use with the mother of a vic: hesitant and trepidatious.

Serena shrugged. "I've been signed for, haven't I?" She held out a hand to Olivia, holding her breath.

Olivia exhaled as she slipped her hand into her mother's, knowing that in these limited but glorious moments of pure sobriety, there was a maternal bond, a mutual love and need. "Why?" she asked, leaning into Serena, and at the same time, pressing back into Elliot.

Serena gave her an expression that seemed to say what did you expect as she spoke. "Today," she took a sharp breath. "It was today. Twenty-nine years ago. The night he...when that man…" her voice broke as a hand flew to her mouth and her eyes squeezed themselves shut.

"God," Olivia's eyes hut, too, and her head lolled forward a bit more. "Mom, God, I'm so...so sorry."

Serena swallowed a cry and rubbed her eyes, vigorously shaking her head. "No, no, I am. I am so…I shouldn't still be holding onto this. He...he gave me you." She squeezed her daughter's hand and tried to smile at her, but deep down she knew she was not always so thankful for that fact. There were years, many of them, where she'd felt resentment and regret, and treated Olivia accordingly. But only when she drank.

Olivia gave Elliot a wary glance. This was yet another part of her life, a side of her reality, that no one was ever supposed to witness. She'd gone through hell, taken strides and precautions, made sure no one would ever know.

He saw the look in her eyes, the amalgamation of emotions in them, and the scared, flat line of her lips. His answer to her unasked questions, unvoiced concerns, was a soft and gentle kiss. With a voice like down feathers, he said, "I love you."

It didn't register; she seemed unphased. Serena had heard it, though, and her tired eyes lit up. She gave Olivia's hand another tight press. When Olivia looked up, Serena smiled and whispered, "He loves you."

Olivia returned the grin, but in a much less genuine manner. "Let's get you home," she sighed, ignoring her mother's words. The walk out of the unfamiliar station was tense and quiet, a thick air surrounding them.

When they reached Elliot's car, he opened the back door for Serena, but Olivia rushed into it, shooting a look at Elliot. "Don't ask, and don't argue."

Furrowing his brow, he licked his lips and shut the door, swiveled, and opened the passenger side door for Serena, who nodded her thanks and got into the car. He exhaled as he gave the door a push to close it, then finally took his place behind the wheel.

It wasn't an easy ride, spent dodging some hard questions and skirting around the answers to others. Serena asked one final question, looking Elliot in the eyes as she blindly opened her door. "What are your intentions with my daughter?"

He was taken aback; he recoiled a bit and gave her a wide-eyed stare. "Pardon?"

"Are they honorable? Do you intend to keep her, as well as keep her happy?" Serena smiled at him. "Or are you using her, getting what you want because you know she will refuse you nothing?"

Elliot let a surprised and nervous scoff slip out. "I assure you," he paused to clear his throat and collect himself. He turned and made eye contact. "I am very much in love with your daughter." He glanced out Serena's window and saw Olivia waiting impatiently to walk her mother up to her apartment. When he looked back at Serena, his grin broadened. "I swear, on my life, that I will protect and defend her, at work and at home, and my intentions...I'm a Marine, I am bound by that to be nothing but honorable."

Serena rested a hand on his shoulder and whispered. "You could have stopped after telling me you were in love with her," she laughed. "But...thank you for your honesty. You know...she's in love with you."

Elliot smiled warmly and nodded. "And I thank God for that." He watched her get out of the car and his eyes followed Olivia and Serena up the steps and through the apartment door. He was staring, waiting for Olivia to resurface, when his phone chirped loudly and interrupted his less than saintly thoughts.

"Stabler," the robotic and automatic response came as soon as he answered the call. "No, no, fine. Just dropping Serena off now and then we…" he listened, his eyes still on the door. As soon as Olivia appeared on the stoop, he stepped on the break and shifted the car into drive. "We got it, Cap. Thanks."

Olivia got into the passenger seat, noticing the look on his face as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. As she buckled her seatbelt, she asked, "What'd we catch?"

"A night off," he told her, pulling away from her mother's place. "He called to see how your mother was, then he told me to take you home. After what happened with…" he felt sick thinking about the man that almost came for her. "After everything, ya know, he said we could take tomorrow off."

She shook her head and chuckled. "Thank God, because I'm fucking exhausted." She leaned back and closed her eyes, then said, "Thank you."

"For what?" He turned the wheel, his eyes on the road.

"Everything, tonight, with my mother…" she shrugged. "You didn't give me any shit about it, you treated her like…"

"She is your mother," he slowly reached for her hand. He held his breath as he took it, but let it all go when she tangled her fingers with his. "She's family. And as for not giving you shit, why would I? I went through the same thing with my father, and you didn't do anything to deserve or cause any of it." He lifted their linked hands and kissed her knuckles.

She smiled at him, whispered "I love you," and before he made his next turn, she was fast asleep.

He grinned at her, the way she looked so content, and he kissed her hand again before dropping it gently. He chuckled, then, stepping a little harder on the gas. It would be tricky, but as he drove toward her apartment, he planned exactly how he would get her out of the car and into bed without waking her up.

 **A/N: I hope you've all had a wonderful holiday season, and as always, thanks for reading!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Let's show them how good we are, If you look after me, I'll look after you (Neglected Space - Imogen Heap)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

She rolled over in her bed, stretching out and yawning. With a deep sigh, she rubbed her eyes and curled herself upward. Running her hands through her hair, she mumbled groggily about not knowing what time it was, and then her eyes opened a bit more. A noise from beyond her bedroom caught her attention, and she drew her gun out from under her pillow as she rose slowly off of the mattress.

Before she pushed her door open, though, she remembered. Rolling her eyes at herself, she backtracks and slid her weapon back under its down-feather home. Yawning again, she toed into the hallway and eyed him suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

He turned over his shoulder and smiled. "Morning sleepyhead," he chuckled. "I am...cooking." He held up the hot pan, proving it.

The raised eyebrow and sideways tilt of her head were automatic reactions. "How?" She took two barefoot steps closer to him, tugging the cotton of her pajama top down further on her hips. "I didn't have anything edible in this…"

"Uh, that's what stores are for," he told her, another laugh falling from his lips. He returned his attention to the stove and said, "I got up an hour ago, walked down to Murdock's, grabbed a few things, and now I am...cooking." He shot her another glance over his shoulder and winked at her.

She scratched at the back of her head, wrapping her other arm around her waist. "Is this dinner or breakfast?" She slid the hand from her head down to her mouth and stifled a yawn.

He shrugged as he flipped the contents of the frying pan. "Either," he said. "Both." He placed the hot pan on the back burner, turned off the front one, and swiveled around. He stunned her into stillness and made her gasp when he wrapped himself around her, but when he bent his head to kiss her, he got her to move.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him make the kiss what he wanted it to be: deep and powerful, long and languid. She moaned when she felt his leg slip between her thighs, his hands gripped her hips and seemed to hold her down to him.

Another moan, from both of them, brought them back to reality. He was the first to pull back, but dropped his forehead forward against hers. His hot, heavy breaths landed like fire on her lips, his closed eyes twitched as he tried to calm himself. "Have I told you," he panted, "That kissing you makes me feel like I'm flying and falling at the same time?"

She shook her head, feeling it rub against his, and she whispered, "Then stop kissing me."

He chuckled. "Fuck no," he breathed, one of his hands pressing deeper into her back, keeping her held tight. "It's the most incredible feeling in the fucking world." He punctuated his words with another hard kiss, his lips crashing over hers, his tongue sweeping over her lips until it was let in, until the kiss became heated.

Her hands flew to the back of his head and she took a cue from his strong arms and hiked herself up against him. She felt the soft breeze as he ran with her and backed up against the wall, still kissing her. She nipped at his lips, her nails dragging down the back of his head and neck.

He smoothed one hand back and forth along the length of her thigh, rounding the curve of her ass. He knew he was losing his resolve, losing control, so he slowly pulled away and took a breath. "Damn," he spat harshly, "You're like a drug."

She couldn't ease her heavy breathing in time to answer so she shrugged and smirked at him. "Sorry," she wheezed.

"Never be sorry," he whispered to her. He kissed her again, calmly and slowly, as he lowered her to the floor. Something changed with this kiss, the shift in mood bringing a shift in the universe. He pulled back, almost shocked, and the foggy look in her eyes told him she felt it, too. "What…"

"We should…" her voice broke at the same time as his, and silenced just as simultaneously. She cleared her throat and trailed her hands down his arms as she walked away from him. She had almost made it to the stove when he rushed at her again and lifted her back into his arms.

He let out a content sigh when her laugh hit his ears and he spun her around before letting her feet land back on the floor. He kept his arms around her, and closed his eyes as he set his chin on her shoulder. "It's spicy," he said, watching her give the frying pan a slight shake.

"Good," she returned, leaning back into him. She pulled open a drawer and grabbed hold of a slotted spoon, but before she could so much as reach her arm out to put the spoon in the pan, he cupped her chin, tilted her head toward him, and kissed her.

The spoon slipped out of her hands, dropping with a slopping sound into the pan, as her hands flew up to the sides of his face. She twisted, tangling herself up in order to turn herself around.

He wound and tightened his arms around her, moaned softly, and thrust his hips once. His arms moved, hands traveled lower until they palmed her ass. He squeezed as he ground his hips into her again.

A low, rumbling sound came from her as she felt him, his profound bulge rubbing against her and sparking her entire nervous system to life. She whimpered when one of his hands smoothed just a bit lower, running between her thighs.

He pressed, applying the perfect amount of pressure as he rubbed back and forth, over her flannel covered flesh. He growled slightly, hearing her moan, and he kissed her just a bit harder.

Gasping slightly, she took a chance and jumped up, knowing he'd catch her, and hooked her legs around him. His hard laugh was felt more than heard as his body shook against hers. He moved quickly, dropping her softly to the counter. He bucked forward, causing them both to let out a cry, hers more strangled than his. His hands moved, eager to shift the cotton fabric of her pants over her hips, but he couldn't stop moving. His body rocked into hers over and over, he could feel her heat radiating and enveloping him.

She moaned, shivered, and pulled her mouth away from his as her head fell backward and a long, throaty version of his name left her lips. "Oh, my God," she pated, lifting her head to look at him, "Elliot, what are we…"

He couldn't let her finish the question, he couldn't stop now. With another low growl he kissed her again, silencing her except for her soft moans. He reached a shaking hand for the drawstring bow at her waist, but just before he tugged it loose, he regained a bit of composure. "Liv, baby," he whispered, calming, slowing his kiss, easing his rocking. "I love you."

"I love you," she said back to him, her hands grazing the back of his head.

He smiled and whispered, "But I'm not gonna fuck you on the kitchen counter," he chuckled. "Not...I mean, the first time we…" he stoped, clearing away the lump that had formed in his throat. "We should eat, and then…" he caught her eyes, the question dancing in them. "I want you. More than I have ever wanted anyone, or anything, in my life." He cupped her face in his hands for a moment, then smoothed her hair back and kissed her. "I need it to be...perfect. Special. Because I feel like we both missed out on that, ya know? With you...shit, it needs to be everything we deserve." He winked and said, "And then we can certainly fuck on this counter. And the couch. The floors. In the shower."

Her laughter filled the small space between them, her nails still lightly scractching at his scalp. "Oh. You think so, huh?"

He nodded and kissed the end of her nose. "I have a thousand fantasies about you," he confessed. "And now...uh, well, I fully intend on making each and every one of them a reality."

She smirked. "What kind of fantasies?" She batted her eyes coyly and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, still feeling him between her legs, making her quiver.

He noticed, and he thrust one last time for god measure, to tease her. He kissed her slowly and then spoke. "Ones that I only have about you, you are the only person I have ever actually…"

She tilted her head and squinted at him, making him pause.

He licked his lips. "Swear to God," he held up his right hand and nodded once. "Most of them are pretty tame, just uh, ya know, various locations...positions...but a few…" he rolled his eyes, unintentionally making himself harder just thinking about it. "Fuck, some of them are high-octane, but I know you have the same exact ones. That's why we work. That's why we fucking...belong together." He stretched one arm out, pulling open a drawer. He grabbed a fork, jabbed at a bit of the spicy sausage and egg scramble, then held it carefully out in front of Olivia's mouth.

She eyed him for a moment, and then leaned forward, mouth open, to take the offering. Again her eyes rolled and she moaned, but it was definitely a uch different tone. "That's so good," she said as she chewed. She swallowed, licked her lips, and then took the fork from him.

They took turns feeding each other, and in between bites there were kisses, soft touches, and a few explorations into new territory for them. Once the panhad been emptied, Elliot lifted her off of the counter and carried her toward the couch. He stopped when she shook her head. "What?" he laughed.

"We should…" she shrugged. "Brush our teeth," she turned her eyes up slightly. "Shower," she said with a smirk.

He grinned almost evilly, and as he hiked her up a bit further in his hold, he changed direction, heading now for the bathroom and mumbling a prayer that his self-control would last just a little while longer.

 **A/N: They get clean...and dirty...next.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N:** **The space between the tears we cry is the laughter keeps us coming back for more (Dave Matthews Band)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

As Olivia roused from a peaceful nap, the events of the morning replayed in her half-conscious mind; caught somewhere between a dream and reality. She could still feel his hands on her body, reliving her brief moments of inhibition with him. She hadn't flinched once at the way he'd taken off her clothes so carefully, kissing every inch of newly exposed skin. Her hands had run through his short hair, her nails scratching lightly, and when she'd become fully bared to him, she'd simply returned the favor. She let out a satisfied sound, shifting in her bed, the image of his naked body in all its glory in vivid technicolor behind her eyelids. She moaned, remembering how every muscle in his body twitched at her touch, and how proud she'd been of her self-control, because she had never wanted to devour someone whole quite so badly and kept herself from doing it.

They hadn't made a single move further, other than kissing and caressing. She moaned his name softly into the pillow, still reeling from his hot touch in the shower, the feel of his rough hands smoothing over every curve and rubbing into every muscle. She marveled at how he'd washed and rinsed every inch of her, stopping when the need to kiss her became too strong. She'd done the same to him, her trembling hands and pounding heart reveling in his size, his girth, the fuel for every fantasy she'd ever have again.

She moaned and rolled onto her side, thinking back to how delicate he'd been when he'd washed her hair and how quickly he'd turned into something else when he finally laid eyes on the tattoo she once swore he'd never see.

A smirk played at her lips as she pulled her pillow tighter to her chest, recalling how he'd traced it first with the bar of soap, and then his fingers, and then he'd lowered himself enough to trace it with his lips and tongue. Another moan escaped as she let herself remember how determined he'd been not to take things too far, too fast, how he'd been adamant about making their shower together more intimate than sex could ever be, and nothing short of a profession of love.

Unaware her hand was moving, she moaned again, brushing her palm over her stomach. She shivered, remembering how he'd kissed her so deeply, up against the tiles. She rubbed her thighs together, in her mind still feeling his hard, thick length pressing into her, knowing how powerfully they had both wanted to make more, so much more of it, but how they'd resisted for lack of time. After rinsing away the suds and grime, they'd simply kissed, grazing each other's arms and sides with water-wrinkled fingertips. Their bodies had moved so rhythmically, slowly, rubbing together but never once meaning for it to become more than they could handle. It hadn't mattered, and thank God they were in the shower, because though neither had intended, both had cum.

Their moans and grunts had been swallowed by their kiss, the lukewarm water had washed away the traces of their sexless climaxes, and he'd chuckled as he'd pulled away from her and shut off the water, slapped her ass playfully, and whispered words she felt she hadn't deserved to hear.

It had been an hour since then; she'd gone back to bed, worn out from the most exhilarating and fulfilling experience she'd ever had with a man, while he kept his promise to pick up his kids and take them to church. Giving up the hope of falling back into any sort of sleep, she pushed herself up and tossed off her covers. She rubbed her eyes as she sat up and let her legs fall over the side of the bed. Yawning, she reached for her purple cotton robe, wrapped herself up in it, and grabbed her phone off of the nightstand. She groggily walked out of her bedroom and ran her hand through her hair as she looked around the apartment, sighing in some sort of surrender.

She walked toward the coffee table first, dropping her phone down before picking up empty coffee mugs and wadded up napkins. Humming to herself, she set them all on the counter, and then tossed the napkins in the trash. She set off to wash the dishes, the few mugs, as well as the frying pan Elliot had used that morning, and her smile widened. But as she watched the bits of pepper and egg swirl and rush toward the drain and disposal, that smile became somber, disappearing into a half-moon pout.

It was symbolic, she thought. Things just being washed down the drain, tossed away. Elliot's marriage, his life with a woman whose name she still had a hard time remembering, ten years of dedication. And then, of course, her barely-even-begun relationship with a guy who, though he had faults, was willing to put up with her. She shook her head, fast as she dropped the soapy sponge into the sink. "No," she scolded herself.

She wasn't going to let the fear and doubt creep in this time and rip her away from the one thing in her life that made any God damn sense. She yanked the towel off of the stove handle, and as she dried out the cups and pan, she heard voices just outside her front door. Setting the pan in the rack beside the sink, she stared at the knob, watching with widening eyes as it turned.

"Hey," his voice met her ears before his face registered clearly. When it did, she smiled at him. She waved and then let her eyes land on the four little bodies that were rushing in her direction. She made a face and braced herself for impact, and then laughed when Elliot's four children leaped at her, each finding a part of her to hug and hold. "Hello, hello, hello," she laughed as she tried to return each eager embrace.

Elliot watched, and he brought one hand to his face, cupping his mouth as he chuckled. He was in absolute awe of how quickly she had bonded with his kids, how instantly they took a liking to her. "You don't mind," he said, stepping closer to the pile of blurry bodies before him. "Do you?"

"Of course not," Olivia said on a laugh, taking a breath as the kids let her go. She crouched down and said, "Mo, why don't you find a movie on TV? One you can all agree on," she tapped the almost-eleven-year-old on the nose.

Maureen giggled and ran toward the couch, dropping into it as she shrugged off her coat and grabbed the remote. Kathleen, Lizzie, and Dickie hopped up on the sofa, too, and took turns pushing the buttons and arguing over channels.

Elliot moved closer to Olivia as he laughed at his kids, and without even thinking, he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her. He let out a soft moan, a whispered confession, and he pulled away. He saw the question in her eyes, and he smirked and shook her head, telling her not to worry about it. He scraped his teeth over his lower lip, then, letting his left hand move down to her right hip. He toyed with the elastic of her pajama pants, and then he moaned again, slipping the fabric down a bit. "This," he whispered, letting his knuckles graze her tattoo. He tilted his head, fingering the angular rays of the sun, his trimmed fingernails tracing the outline of the moon. "I was right, ya know, when you told me about this...it's you."

She couldn't tear her eyes away from his face, the look of pure intrigue and ecstasy was clear. "I guess it is," she whispered back. "What are you doing back here?"

"They all thought you would be coming to church with us," he told her. He was now looking into her eyes, but his hand was still playing with the ink at her hip. He inched closer, slipping one of his legs between hers, and he leaned them up against the side wall of the kitchen. "When they realized you weren't with me, they got upset," he shrugged. "As soon as the final prayer was through, they asked if they could see you." He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. When he didn't get the immediate response he'd anticipated, he let his tongue swipe over the seam of her closed mouth, moved his knee further between her legs, and scratched just a bit harder at her tattoo.

Her gasp made her mouth fall open and she moaned when he took his shot and deepened the kiss. She couldn't fight it, now, and clutched his arms with her hands. "Your kids," she whispered as soon as she got the chance.

He shook his head and kissed her again. "Can't see us," he whispered back, and he pressed his body into hers, hiking his thigh up a bit further. He could feel her, hot and throbbing, right through the denim of his jeans, and he whispered, "You want me, huh?"

She nodded, her kiss just as eager and desperate as his, but she pushed him away just enough to give her space to breathe. "Not in the kitchen, remember?" she joked, her head pressed against his, "And definitely not with all four of your children half a wall away." Her hands ran up his arms, over his shoulders, and she cupped his face. "But God, yes, I want you."

His laugh was breathy, hot puffs of air landed on her lips, and he kissed her again, softer and slower. "I want you, too, baby," he panted, peeling himself away from her. He bit his lip as he pulled her out of their hiding place and tugged her into the living room. He sat on the smaller couch, taking her with him, and jutted a chin toward the television. "What are you guys watching?"

"Wreck It Ralph," Dickie answered, his little legs swinging, too short to touch the floor.

Kathleen twirled a piece of her blonde hair with her fingers as she said, "We all like this movie. Ralph kind of reminds us of Daddy."

Elliot scoffed and feigned offense. "How?" he asked, his hands running down Olivia's back.

She gave in and snuggled closer to him, but kept her hands to herself.

Maureen spoke up with a giggle and said, "He's this big, strong, scary guy," she began. "All the Nicelanders think he's got a bad temper and he hits and breaks things."

"Oh, thanks," Elliot chuckled. "I'm not…"

"But then," Lizzie interrupted, "You find out that all he really wants to do is be a hero. So he leaves his game...his home...and he meets Venelope, who's really a princess but she doesn't know it, and she brings out his good side. He finally has someone who treats him kindly and who lets him be himself and likes him just the way he is. She makes him realize he was a hero all along, he just needed someone to believe in him."

"Wow, Eliot breathed, suddenly overcome with a mix of emotions he was sure he'd never felt before, and he looked at his kids. "That's...wow, you guys think that...I'm like that? You mean that?"

Kathleen nodded and said, "Uh-huh!"

Maureen smiled at her father and said, "We also think that Liv is like Venelope."

Olivia let out a soft gasp; she felt Elliot pull her even closer to him. "Me?"

"You're the one who pulled all the good out of him," Dickie shrugged. "As soon as he met you, he wasn't afraid to be himself anymore. He figured out he didn't have to change or hide to please anyone, even if it made other people upset." His face fell. "Like Mom." He kicked his feet a bit harder against the couch. "But us...we all...like, we like him better now." He looked up. "And we like you, Liv."

"Oh, sweetheart," Olivia said softly, knowing her emotions now matched Elliot's exactly.

Elliot, biting his lip and trying to keep the threatening tears from falling, stared at his son. "How old are you?"

"I'm almost seven, Daddy!" he squealed with a hard and happy laugh, still kicking his feet.

Once Elliot saw all of his kids focus on the movie, he reached out for Olivia's cheek, brushing away a tear. When she turned to look at him, he kissed her quickly. "They see it," he whispered to her. "My kids see it. How can we deny it, now?" He shook his head and shrugged. He leaned in, slowly, carefully reading the look in her eyes. "This morning…"

"Yeah," she said to him, her lip caught between her teeth. "I've been thinking about since…" she was stopped by his lips.

Pulling away with a wet, smacking sound, he smiled. "God, I can't stop playing it over and over in my head. Nothing like that has ever…"

His words were stopped, too, but not by a kiss. He rolled his eyes and groaned, dropping his head back to hers as he felt her shift forward, grabbing her ringing cell phone off the coffee table.

"Benson," she said, answering the call, and as she spoke, Elliot's phone rang. "Uh, flannel pajamas and a...no, um, long. Why are you...what? No, look, is there something you need me to...yeah, great. Thanks." She hung up and poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, staring in amazed offense at Elliot.

"No, I got it, Cap. I have to take the kids home, and go get Benson, so...fifteen? Right. Bye." He shoved his phone back in his pocket and looked at her. "What's with that look?"

"Jeffries," she said, wiggling her phone. "Wanted to know if I needed help getting dressed. Or undressed," she raised one eyebrow.

"Oh, well, you do," he told her, standing up. He held out a hand and whispered, "But the only one helping you do either of those things is me." He winked when she slipped her hand into his. He turned and said, "Uh, guys, I need help Liv with something, when we're done...we have to go, okay? We gotta go to work."

"But it's Sunday," Kathleen whined.

"I know, pumpkin," he smiled sadly at his daughter. "I'm sorry." He sighed when Kathleen turned back toward the television and he urged Olivia in the direction of her bedroom. He ran a hand down his face as they walked into the room and he grinned when she started to literally disrobe.

She laughed when he moved, doing as promised and helping her take off her clothes, and just as he'd done before, he kissed each new patch of skin as it came into view. She closed her eyes and ran her hands through his hair as she silently prayed that their time at work would go quickly. She had something she needed to do, things she needed to say. She moaned his name as she felt his tongue sweep along her tattoo again.

When he got to his feet, he kissed her lips. "Do you, uh, think you trust me enough now?" He blinked. "To tell me...how you got that scar...why you really got that gorgeous tattoo that I just can't stop touching?" He ran a finger along the rim of the moon to prove his point.

She looked into his eyes, kissed him softly, and nodded. "When we get…"

"Home?" He finished for her. He smirked as she pulled clothes out of her closet, anticipating how she'd move under his touch as he helped her dress. "Liv?"

She turned to look over her shoulder at him, at the same time slipping her arms into the straps of a bra.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to control himself. When he could, he smiled at her. "I love you.

 **A/N: Jeffries, Fin, Kathy, and a secret revealed. Next.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** **The space between our wicked lies where we hope to keep safe from the pain** **(Dave Matthews Band)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"It was me," she asked him, her eyes focused on the inner rim of her coffee cup, watching the milk white swirl with the deep brown as she stirred it. "Wasn't it?"

He looked up from the file in his hands, letting it fall further into his lap. "What? You...when?"

She sipped, then held the foam cup out to her partner, her lover, and waited.

He kicked his feet off of his desk, hesitantly taking the cup out of her hands, and he raised an eyebrow as he brought it to his lips. "You made this," he said, moaning as he swallowed. He handed her cup back to her and folded his arms.

"I did," she winked. "Anyway, the, uh...when you told me about that dream you had. The one of the girl, staring at you, at that party? You said you thought it was me, but that since you didn't know me…" she shrugged as she took another long sip of her coffee. After swallowing, she offered it to him. When he wrapped his hand around the cup, she said, "But you did know me. Saint Luke's, remember?"

His eyes widened, and he gave her the last bit of coffee while his free hand ran down his face. "Uh, wow. Yeah." He nodded. "Son of a bitch." He smirked, licked his lips, and then said, "So you really are the only woman I have ever fantasized about, huh?"

She smiled at him as her arms folded over themselves and she downed the final sip of coffee.

"What made you think of...uh, realize…" he shook his head in stunned amusement as he settled back in his seat, reclining with his file again.

She tossed the cup into the trash bin beside her and said, "Something Jeffries said when we went to talk to the vic's boss."

That's when his demeanor changed. The grin on his face turned downward into a small scowl, his nostrils flared slightly with each heavy breath, and he rolled his neck so tightly it cracked and popped. "Excuse me, why is she talking about her fantasies about you?"

She had to laugh. "Oh, my God, El," she chuckled, running two fingers along her forehead. "Relax. She had a theory, the boss had a thing for her, maybe tried to live out the whole naughty secretary bit...and she didn't feel like playing the part."

Elliot raised an eyebrow, no other change in his facade. "Liv?"

Sighing, she relented. "Okay, and then she may have told me that she's had a similar fantasy about me, but she didn't try anything." She moved over to her side of the twin desks, sat in her chair, and cleared her throat. "She had a point. It gave us something to go on."

Now stiff and sitting upright, Elliot nodded, "And the boss is dust in the wind. Makes him look guilty." He scratched at the patch of stubble coming in under his chin, marvelling at how he could be scruffy so soon after a close shave. "Hey, uh, I've brought up the topic before, a couple of times, and I know we never get into detail about it, but...do you? Ya know, have…"

"Oh, yeah," she replied, a wicked gleam in her eye and a smirk on her face. She bit her lip and nodded. "The ones that you're so sure are exactly the same as yours?" she closed her eyes as she nodded again. "You're damn right." She opened her eyes and shot him a hot glare. "But we shouldn't be having this conversation, here, right now."

He laughed to himself, moving his hands together to crack his knuckles and ease the tension out of his wrists. He eyed her, watching the minute ways her body moved beneath the brown button down he'd chosen for her. He watched it wrinkle as her joints bend and her curves shifted, and his eyes traveled downward, only imagining what lay just below, under the metal and wood of the desk, beneath layers of black cotton and red silk.

"Hey," she spat, tossing a wadded up sticky note at him. She laughed at the face he made as he shuddered and snapped himself out of his daze. "Where did you just go, Stabler?"

"Heaven," he said with a twist of his head and cockeyed grin. "Did you get anything from the parents?"

"You were with me," she said with narrow eyes.

He pressed his tongue between his lips and flipped a page over in the folder. "I was talking to the brother and the boyfriend, remember?" He furrowed his brow. "Something is...off."

Jeffries strode up to them with a smug expression, the copper in her curls shimmering in the dim light of the suadroom. She dropped a fresh cup of coffee in front of Olivia and pointed to Elliot, and then to her. "You two...match."

Elliot looked at her, then darted his eyes toward Olivia before looking down at himself. "Uh...I guess?" he screwed up his face in confusion. "Her shirt is a totally different…"

"Your tie is the same exact color as her shirt," Jeffries interrupted. "The tank under her Oxford is the same color as your shirt." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "That's not a coincidence."

"Actually, it is," Olivia said flatly. "How the hell would I know what he pulls out of his closet in the morning?" She was getting damn good at lying to the people around her, but there was a part of her that couldn't accept letting anyone else get too close. She had Elliot. He was more than enough.

"Hm, true," Jeffries said, pointing a finger at her with a grin. "I just got off the phone with…" she stopped, her breath hitching a bit as she watched Olivia take a sip of the coffee she'd made for her. "It's okay?"

Olivia hummed and nodded. "Perfect. Thanks," she said, licking her lips.

With a broader smile, Jeffries continued. "Warner sent us the tox-screen, there were enough drugs in her system to bring a Narc in on this one. They're sending someone…" she stopped speaking again, her smile suddenly gone, as she took in the sight of Elliot reaching over and grabbing the coffee out of Olivia's hand. She heard the playful banter, the witty retort, and she noticed the light in their eyes. The same exact glimmer. She cleared her throat and said, "They're sending one of their guys up here in a few."

"You have that report?" Elliot asked, slipping the coffee back toward Olivia.

Jeffries sneered at him. "So do you, she e-mailed it to all of us." She took two steps, stopping just to the left of Elliot, and then bent down a bit and lowered her voice. "I made the coffee for her. You really shouldn't have…"

"Come on, Monique," Elliot scoffed at her, stopping her words. "You know we always share coffee, unless we each already have a…"

"Stabler," Jeffries cut in, eyeing him more darkly. "You really don't get it." She tossed her head back a bit, shot Olivia a cautious glance, and then lowered her voice again. "How am I supposed to work my magic on her if…"

"She has a boyfriend," he said, stopping her once again. "She's head over heels about him, they're...they're pretty fucking serious. You need to back off before you hurt her, or before she ends up hating you."

Jeffries took a deep breath. "Figures, the one time Cragen hires another woman, she's way outta my league." She laughed and slapped Elliot on the shoulder. "You know the guy?"

Elliot held up a hand. "I already threatened him on behalf of the entire unit."

"Good," Jeffries said, offering a genuine smile. She eased up off of Elliot's desk and gave Olivia another longing look as she sauntered slowly back to her desk.

Without even looking up from her computer monitor, Olivia said, "She hitting on you, now?"

"Hardly," he coughed. "She, uh, she was mad at me for drinking the coffee she so lovingly made you."

Olivia let out a soft chuckle. "That ain't happening," she told him. "Like you said, I'm head over heels about my boyfriend, so…" she trailed off with a slight shrug.

"You heard that?" he asked, shocked, and he got up when he heard the printer click and whir.

She nodded. "I heard everything," she said to him, taking the papers from him as he took them one-by-one off of the printer's tray. She looked down and read fast, and then she made a stunned, breathy noise. "Christ, what the hell? She was stoned out of her mind! There's no way she could possibly have consented…"

"She didn't." The gruff voice spoke over heavy footsteps. The man shot out a hand and gave a dimpled smile. "Tutuola, Narcotics."

Elliot shook his hand, gripping formly as if to assert his place of authority. "Stabler," he said, "Elliot Stabler." He let go of the man's hand and then he nodded toward Olivia. "My partner, Olivia Benson."

"Tutuola, that's...Nigerian?" Olivia looked up from her chair as she shook his hand.

The detective nodded. "Yeah, hey, not too many people get that."

"You got a first name?" Jeffries piped up, having her interest piqued by Olivia's intelligence.

"Odafin," he said, "But, uh, everyone just calls me Fin. Easier that way," he smiled at Jeffries, then turned back to Olivia and Elliot.

"Fitting name for a cop," Olivia said, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Doesn't it mean 'keeper of law,' or something?"

Again, Fin was stunned and impressed. "Establisher," he nodded. "Establer of laws. How the hell did you…"

"Guess I held on to more of my college education than I thought," she shrugged. She pushed herself up out of her chair and flicked her bangs out of her face with a single finger, oblivious to the adoration on the faces of Elliot and Monique. "So, I don't think...I mean, she wasn't conscious when the rape went down, clearly. Am I wrong?"

Fin shook his head. "This much shit in her system, she was either passed out or already dead." He tapped the first page. "Combination of drugs was lethal, my guess is she never even knew it was happenin'."

Olivia looked at Elliot. "God's grace," she said glumly, and then shook her head as she gazed down at the toxicology report in her hands. "Still, this...this didn't have to happen." She flipped the page and said, "Warner said, according to her tests, Romano wasn't a regular user. She ran hair follicle analysis and there was no sign of anything this heavy in her system, at all. So this must have been the first time she…"

"That's why I'm here," Fin interrupted. "Matches an MO of a guy we've been after for months. Just the first time someone got dropped. Rest of 'em ended up turnin' into junkies. That's the idea, dope 'em up, make 'em want more, bam, you got yourself a customer." He licked his lips and said, "He pops the girl, doesn't realize she's dead until he's done, freaks the fuckout, leaves her body in the alley...it becomes your case and we finally get DNA on the son of a fucking bitch."

Elliot nodded. "Sums it up," he said, giving Fin a slap on the arm. "Why don't you take Jeffries down to Warner and see if anything on that DNA actually hit."

"Yeah, cool," Fin said with a nod, and he turned to meet Jeffries and lead her down the stairs, and down the block, to the morgue.

"He seems...unique," Elliot said, resting a hand on the small of Olivia's back.

She turned to him with a laugh. "Understatement," she said. "They're pretty casual down in Narco, he was wearing jeans and basketball jersey."

Elliot shrugged. "Probably so he doesn't get made on the streets," he surmised, "You and me, baby, we look like cops, but we don't have a reason not to, ya know? He probably has to fit in with a certain crowd to do his job."

Olivia nodded. Slowly, though, her head turned, the feeling of being watched hitting her hard. "Oh, uh," she stiffened and straightened up, slapping Elliot's hand away from her body. "Hi, Kelly." She grimaced. "Um, no, Kathy. Hi, Kathy."

Kathy looked from her to Elliot with an _is this bitch for real_ expression on her face.

"I'm gonna," Olivia pointed and shifted her weight. "Coffee." She practically bolted toward the small table and poured a cup, downing it back fast, hoping to calm her suddenly heightened nerves.

Elliot hid his laugh behind his hand and then cleared his throat. "What's going on, Kath? The kids?"

"The kids are fine," Kathy said, sighing. "They're in the lobby playing with the puppies."

Squinting, he tilted his head. Then it hit him. "Oh, yeah, the shepherds. They're so fucking cute," he chuckled. "So, if they're okay, why are you…" he was stopped mid-sentence by her hand jutting out, the brass ring dangling from her fingers. "What…"

She jingled the ring and keys at him, making an aggravated face. "Take them," she demanded.

He reached for them with caution, as if they'd bite him. "These are your…"

"House, the front and back door, safety deposit box, and the garage." She dropped the keys into his hand. "Two-Forty-Five Grand Central Parkway, apartment 3B."

"That's your new place?" He guessed, gnawing at the inside of his cheek. "That's...shit, Kath, that's the Monte Excelsior!"

Kathy smiled. "It is," she nodded. "Took a position at North Shore University Hospital, part of the reason I took the job was that it came with an apartment. Well, I mean, the hospital pays half the rent, which means I can afford it."

"Wow," Elliot said cheerfully. "Good for you," he said, and he meant it. The warmth in his eyes proved it. "See, this...this is the best decision we could have…"

"It's a two bedroom apartment," Kathy interrupted. Her smile stayed in place as she said, "Two. Not five, not even four. Just two. So you need to give me a heads up when you're letting the kids spend any kind of time with me, I'll need to get two bunk beds and figure out how…"

"Hold on," Elliot took his turn to interrupt. "What do you mean, I have to let you know…"

Kathy took a step toward him, still smiling, and said, "Your precious partner didn't tell you?"

She watched him shake his head. "Well, it seems since you got the house thanks to your crazy mother's fucking pre-nup, the judge handling our custody agreement thinks it would be incredibly unkind to ask our children, who are all under the age of twelve, to relocate or float around like...what did he call them? Bubbles. He called our children bubbles, and he said that we needed to be careful, or the bubbles would pop. So, it seems, they are to stay with you. And... _her_...in the house."

Elliot's eyebrows knitted together, he tilted his head again. Her words registered and suddenly his face lit up, his jaw dropped, his eyes bulged, and he let out a whopping hollar that rivaled the one he let fly when Dickie was born. "Seriously? Are you...he said that? I get, I mean...of course, Kath, you can have them whenever you want, but he really...he said that?"

Kathy nodded, hating the situation but loving how happy he was. "Yeah," she said, suppressing a laugh. God, he looked adorable. "I can't believe she didn't tell you."

"Our issues have nothing...well, next to nothing to do with Liv," he told her, still smiling like a Cheshire Cat. "How could she have told me? How could she possibly know?"

"Oh, Elliot," Kathy said, a huge sarcastic smile firm in place, "Dear, sweet, Elliot." Her eyes widened a bit, the smile became a scowl, and she thwacked him in the side with her purse. "She's the one who fucking told him you got the house!"

"Ow!" Elliot backed away from Kathy, rubbing his ribs where her heavy leather bag had hit him. "No she fucking didn't! My lawyer told him! Jesus Christ," he spat, his wide and fearful eyes dragging up and down his ex-wife's form, landing on the purse. "What the hell do you have in there, cinder blocks?"

Kathy's face had fallen. "She...she didn't…"

"I don't make it a point to insert myself into things," Olivia said, proving she was watching, listening. "Especially when it's this personal, and absofuckinglutely none of my goddamn business, thank you very much." She shook her head. "I don't know if I should be offended or…"

"I'm sorry," Kathy said abruptly. She hiked her heavy bag back up onto her shoulder. "I just...I got that phone call and my gut told me you…you would have, you can't tell me I'm wrong. If you had the chance to help him get the kids full-time, I…"

"Maybe, but not like this," Olivia said softly. "I had nothing to do with it, it was honestly Judge Nichols and a damn good attorney doing their jobs, and doing what...right now...is best for the kids."

Kathy nodded. "I guess...deep down, I knew that I just…"

"Needed someone to hate for it," Olivia nodded, understanding. "I'm the easiest target for that. I get it."

Kathy offered an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry, this is just…" she shrugged and sighed. "It's a lot. I guess, um, when you're done, here, you...you can go...home." She looked to her left, at the doorway of the unit. "I'll call your brother, tell him I'm gonna drop the kids off, this is...this is it, huh?"

Elliot nodded, almost sadly. "Yeah. Thanks, ya know, for, uh," he jingled the keys.

Kathy smiled at him, and then, without so much as a second glance at Olivia, she walked out of the squadroom.

Elliot dropped his head, then, right into the crook of Olivia's neck, and the laugh that came from somewhere low in his body erupted like a roar. He lost himself in the moment, wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around, and when he set her down, he looked into her eyes. "I got my kids, for...I mean, they're living with me. Us. I...I don't…"

She smiled at him, then brushed her thumb under his eyes to wipe away his tears. She sniffled, betraying her own emotions, and she nodded. "Yeah, you got your kids."

He was about to kiss her again when approaching footsteps gave them cause to part, the empty room now filling with people as squad members, uniformed officers, and detectives piled into it. Olivia checked her watch. "Meeting must be over," she mused.

Cragen and Munch made a beeline for them. "You two," Cragen spoke, wagging a finger at them, "Please, tell me you got something on this."

"Jeffries took the loaner from Narco down to Warner to verify ID," Olivia told him, "Other than that we just...well, we know she died either just before or during the rape. She OD'd." She reached over to her desk and picked up the tox report, then passed it over to Cragen.

Cragen scanned it. "Tell me…" he looked up, looked directly at Elliot. "That this is ringing a bell, Stabler."

Befuddled and still reeling from his heartfelt victory, he took the papers from Cragen and read more carefully than he had the first time. "Oh, shit, man," he hissed, slapping the report back into Cragen's hands. "Mother fucker," he griped.

Olivia pursed her lips. "Fill me in," she ordered.

"Before you," Elliot said, rifling through his desk drawers and files, "Uh, a case I worked with Alphonse, same combination of drugs...girl survived the attack, but her statement…" he mumbled something as his fingers fittered across the files. "She was still jacked up, she wasn't making any sense. By the time we got out to reinterview her, she was an addict, in a halfway house. She talked to us, gave us the best description she could, and then said she owed him. He hooked her, she wanted us to make him pay for ruining her life. Ah, here, Charlene Clarkson," he pulled the file out of his drawer. "Cold case." He flipped it open and scanned the sheets, hoping to find something they could use. He tapped the page and then lifted the file off of his desk and handed it to Olivia.

She read the statement, absorbing it all, and then said, "This says when she came in, she had blood on her shirt. That's gotta still be in evidence, right?" She read the next page, then looked up, annoyed, and glared at Cragen. "No one ran tests on the shirt?"

"Like Elliot said," Cragen shrugged regretfully, "She was high, Liv. Her story was...impossible to understand. But Elliot did send her over for a kit, and they did take the shirt. If you two want to…" Before he'd even finished his sentence, Olivia and Elliot were putting their coats on and heading for the door. He chuckled as he handed Munch the papers he was left holding, and headed into his office, knowing his instincts about them had been dead on.

 **A/N: A night apart...or half of one? And the story behind Olivia's scar. Next.**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N:** **No sweeping exit or offstage lines could make me feel bitter or treat you unkind. (The Rolling Stones- Wild Horses)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"Slam dunk," Elliot chirped cheerfully, strutting back into the squadroom as he peeled off his wool coat. He had a satisfied smile on his face and he even shot Jeffries a nod. "DNA got a hit, bastard's goin' down, and Narcotics is actually willing to split the collar."

Jeffries glanced at him, and then turned her attention toward Olivia, taking in the way she peeled off her leather jacket. She leaned back and licked her lips as Olivia smoothed the wrinkles out of her cream colored Oxford shirt. "All that time in storage, the blood was a viable…"

"Showed no sign of degradation," Elliot interrupted, spinning his keys around his finger. He noticed the direction of Jeffries' stare, then, and turned his head. He, too, became lost in the curves and edges of his partner. "Hey," he whispered, getting her attention. When she popped her head up and looked at him, he gave his head a slight jerk.

She let her eyes roam to where he'd told her to look, and they rolled immediately as she tugged down the hem of her emerald cotton tank. "Wonderful," she chuckled, noticing the hazy look on Monique's face and knowing what it meant. She was just about to sit down, but Cragen's voice stopped her from dropping completely. "What now?" She rubbed the back of her hand along her forehead and whispered, "I don't think I can handle another dead kid, we've had four in the last twenty-four hours."

Cragen smiled slightly. "Go home, Benson," he said with a nod. "That's what I was...what I wanted to tell you." He turned and pointed to Elliot. "You...you need to stay and finish that pile of paperwork that's been on your desk for two weeks."

"Huh," Elliot scoffed, feigning offense. He crossed his arms as he dropped into his seat. "Dad's got a favorite kid. I see how it is," he said dismissively, grabbing a file as he hid the truth behind his irritation. He wasn't sure he could do his job without her anymore, even if it was just finishing paperwork. He eyed her for a moment, and his sowl turned into a warm smile. He nodded once at her, silently telling he'd see her at home, and thanking God he'd given her Kathy's set of keys.

"Need a ride?" Monique offered, her eyes traveling the length of Olivia's body for what must've been the hundredth time that day. She licked her lips appreciatively and tried to ignore the curious pang of jealousy that hit her when she once again realized her shirt exactly matched Elliot's tie. But damn, did that shirt look incredible on her. Her eyes turned up at the sound of Olivia's voice.

"No, uh, thanks, though," Olivia smiled politely as she rezipped her jacket. She waved her goodbyes to her crew, shooting another furtive glance at Elliot, and suddenly she was hit with an unfamiliar sadness. "You sure you don't need…"

"Benson," Cragen cut her off, "You single-handedly filled out every 'Five for him last month. He can handle his own back-office bullshit for one night." He wagged his hand back and forth, shooing her off, and said, "Get some rest. You worked your ass off, you and your partner didn't get a break, so take the few extra hours, here."

"Right, thanks," she said with a half-hearted smile. She walked out of the squadroom with her hands shoved in her pockets, going over the route to Elliot's house and hoping she would make it to the station in time to catch the express.

It hadn't been too long, but it had felt like an eternity. In the two and a half hours she'd spent alone in the house, she'd helped his kids with their homework, ordered them dinner, read a trashy novel Kathy had left behind, flipped through several of the Stabler Family photo albums, and was just about to relegate herself to watching a crime drama on TV when he'd finally come home.

Now, he was sitting beside her on the couch, one arm looped around her, the other clutching a slice of pepperoni pizza. As he chewed, he shifted to get closer to her, and when he swallowed, he kissed her cheek. "Thank you," he said softly.

"For what?" she whispered, unsure why but feeling the need to match his tone.

He shrugged, kissed her again, and said, only slightly louder, "Everything." He bit into his pizza again, and with his mouth full, he spoke. "You made sure my kids did their homework, I know you helped them more than you probably needed to, you made sure they ate at a reasonable hour, did you…" he paused to swallow. "Did you even think about how much something so small would mean to me?" He tossed his crust into the box on the coffee table and grabbed her hand. "Knowing how much you love my kids, I mean...really love them… that means absolutely everything to me."

"I love them," she told him. "They're amazing. You created four beautiful, intelligent, creative, loving little humans. And I do love them for all of those reasons, but mostly...because I love you." She blinked once and almost missed seeing the light in his eyes shine a bit brighter.

He moved fast, his salty, tangy lips pressing against hers, begging for absolute possession. His hands wound around her neck, he pulled her close and deepened his kiss, moaning her name into her mouth.

As was their newly minted custom, hands roamed and clutched and grabbed, feeling the flesh between clothes and aching to make more of this than just a kiss. "El," she moaned, rolling her eyes back as he swiped a particularly sensitive part of her body. "Baby, your kids are still awake…" she began, trying to be heard through his protesting groans.

He peeled his lips off of hers but kept their heads pressed together, sighing as he pulled his left hand out of her flannel pants and gripped her hips. "Damn it, they need earlier bedtimes," he cracked.

They shared a laugh as they calmed themselves down, and met in a much slower, softer kiss. When they finally parted, he took a deep breath and pulled her even closer to him. He rested his head on top of hers as he leaned her against his chest. "So, uh, you...you never told me...how this happened." He slipped his hand into the waistband of her pants, letting his fingertips trace the top edges of the tattoo that lived low on her hip.

She closed her eyes, admitting defeat, knowing it was time to give him the one thing he'd been asking for. "It's really not…"

"It's important to me," he kissed her forehead. "I need to know, baby. Please?"

She nodded and snuggled closer to him. "The summer before I turned fourteen," she said, and then she looked up at him, "So this was before I decided to fight back," she lowered her eyes again. "I was invited to this lakehouse, upstate, one of the few friends I had asked me to spend the weekend with her and her folks." She licked her lips. "My mom...she was great about it, at first. She even told me that she'd take me to buy a new bathing suit and a couple of pairs of jeans." She smiled, remembering that the story wasn't all bad. "We woke up early one Saturday, went for breakfast, and then she drove me out to this huge mall in Jersey. She gave me her credit card to go get my jeans, and told me she'd meet me in an hour at this little surf shop…"

"For the swimsuit," he noted, and he dropped his lips to her head again.

She nodded against his chest. "It was longer than that. I was waiting in front of the store for almost four hours. When she finally showed up, her mood had changed, she was...angry. She complained about everything I tried on, and the last time...the last one…" she inhaled sharply "I opened the dressing room door and she screamed at me. She told me I looked like a tramp, that I wouldn't be allowed to ever own anything so trashy." She closed her eyes, shivering slightly. "It wasn't even revealing, El! It was a tank and shorts, it was so cute, and it was the only one I thought looked good on me."

"I can guaran-damn-tee that you looked hot, I knew you when you were fourteen, remember?" He winked and kissed her lips softly. "Sixteen year old me thought you were beautiful, by the way, and a bit ticked off that you were that much younger than me. But, uh, those two years don't matter now, do they?"

She shook her head and kissed him again, unwilling to let him go just yet, then she nuzzled him as she spoke. "She tried to pull the top off of me, but I backed up. That only made it worse. She yelled even louder, called me a filthy whore, and pushed me, hard. I flew into the wall, lost my balance, and tried to stop myself from hitting my head, but one of the hanger hooks under the mirror…"

"Oh," Elliot cringed and clutched her to him. "Oh, honey."

"She didn't even care that I was hurt, she just grabbed my arm and pulled me back to her, which...ya know, ripped the hook out and did even more damage. There was so much blood. I had to pay for the suit anyway, because I bled all over it, and the store called 911...not my mom." She laughed bitterly. "I didn't know why, then, but now...I know she was drunk."

He closed his eyes as he kissed the top of her head again, his heartbreaking at the soft cry her voice had given. "I love your tattoo, but, baby, I love your scar more. All of your scars, and trust me…" he let himself smirk, remembering their moment in the shower, "I took the time to look at every one of them." He reached one hand down and cupped her chin, and as he turned her head toward him, he spoke again. "They all share in making you who you are, how strong and resilient and...so fucking beautiful you…"

She didn't let him finish; she kissed him again, this time sitting up and moving her body over his, straddling his lap. Her flannel pants were thin enough to feel him as he thrust upward, his pants doing very little to conceal how badly he wanted her. Needed her. She didn't seem to care that the kids were all upstairs, awake, or that she was about to make a move that would lead to something that she wasn't fully ready for. "El," she breathed as she kissed him. She moaned as he bucked his body upward. She shifted off of his lap, her feet hitting the floor, and she tugged on him. "Baby," she whispered against his lips.

He rose, knowing what she was suggesting and willingly giving into it. He wrapped her up in his arms, lifted her off of her feet, and carried her as he kissed her, blindly climbing the stairs and heading for his bedroom, knowing it would mean a shift in his universe.

If they could go uninterrupted this time.

 **A/N: An uninterrupted evening? Fingers crossed.**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** **Wild horses couldn't drag me away** **. (The Rolling Stones- Wild Horses)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

It happened the minute he laid her down on the mattress; her heart completely stopped, her lungs siezed, and she just watched him move as every cell in her body lit on fire. The way he pulled his shirt over his head, tossed it effortlessly into the hamper like a basketball, and then leaned down to her with a hungry, fiery grin.

He licked his lips as he crawled over her, his hands suddenly slipping downward to pull at her pants.

She finally let herself breathe, a hot and gasping breath, when she felt his fingers on her skin. This was happening. This was fucking happening.

His entire body trembled as he worked, slowly peeling away layers of cotton, biting his lip a bit harder with each inch of exposed skin. He shot his eyes up to hers, meeting her drugged hazy stare, matching it. He leaned up to pull her pants off and threw them over his head, knowing they'd land in the hamper on top of his shirt.

She moaned his name softly, one hand reaching for him, and when he dropped his head to kiss her, it ignited the waiting, burning embers into a full blown fire. Her arms looped around his neck and she moaned his name again, against his lips, her back arching to let his fingers yak at her top. "El," she whispered.

He simply moaned back at her, easing off her shirt and wriggling out of his pants at the same time. Once they were piled up on the hamper, he took a breath, looked down, and smiled. His heart thumped and for a moment he forgot where he was. "Fuck," he whispered, his eyes focused on her body, roaming over her curves and taking in every scar, every freckle, searing them all into his memory. "You are…" his words were lost, he shook his head and then bent it, kissing her chin, her neck, behind her ear, the crook of her shoulder.

Her eyes closed and she felt his lips on her skin, the way he paid attention to every part of her, giving her goosebumps. No one had ever taken such time with her before, ever.

He hadn't, in fact, taken such time with anyone before her, and he tried so damn hard to make sure she could tell, to make sure she could feel how much he loved her with every single touch of his lips to her body. He kissed his way downward, over the hills and valleys of her chest and stomach, along the smooth skin of her thighs, behind her knees, until he twisted and settled himself between her legs. He shivered, nervous and anxious and more excited than he'd ever been in his life.

She knew what he was about to do, and her world shifted as she ran her fingers along his scalp, watching him move slowly, his eyes staring into hers. The sound that came out of her mouth when he made contact, when his tongue swiped up her hot, wet slit, was inhuman. Otherworldly. "Oh, my God," she whimpered, feeling him growl against her as he suckled and licked deeper, faster. "Elliot."

He moaned again, savoring the taste of her, his heart pounding faster with every swipe of his tongue against her heat. He could spend his whole life right here, exactly like this. His hands wound under her legs, parting them a bit farther, gripping them tighter. He dove deeper, a louder growl escaping as he devoured her completely.

Her fingers curled in response, her nails digging into his scalp, and her back arched as his name flew out of his mouth again. An unfamiliar burn began to build, rising and threatening to consume her. Nothing so powerful had ever overtaken her, and she knew the reason why. "God, Elliot," she moaned.

He chuckled to himself, proud of how he'd so quickly and completely gotten her exactly where he wanted her. He rose up a bit on his elbows and stared into her dark, maddened eyes as he rapidly flicked his tongue over her clit. He could feel her reacting, loving how her hips rose and body thrust against him as he lapped up everything she was giving him. He felt her scratch the back of his head, hard, and it was his final prod. He moved like a rocket, flattening over her, meeting her nose to nose as she trembled beneath him.

She barely had time to catch her breath, his mouth slanted over hers so instantly. Her weak, unsteady arms hooked around his neck again, and as she slowly returned his easy kiss, she felt his heartbeat through his chest, against her skin. He was just as nervous, just as unstable as she was, and she nipped at his lower lip to let him know she knew. "I love you," she whispered.

He panted as he pressed his forehead to hers and nodded, softly answering, "I love you, too, baby," and he opened his eyes in time to watch hers widen as he pushed his way into her for the first time.

Their simultaneous gasps broke the moment of tense silence, their watering eyes held matching sparkle as he inched deeper, hoping to fill her thoroughly, give her every bit of him. He needed to press on, ached to sheathe himself entirely as he'd never done for anyone else. This needed to be an epic first.

He felt his pelvic bone hit against hers, and he knew he'd done it. Slowly but surely, he'd made this the most miraculously intimate moment of his life. He stayed still, breathing deeply, staring down into Olivia's brown eyes as his own welled up with tears. He sniffled and then felt every single muscle in his body contract.

She let one hand slide down to the side of his face and swiped her thumb under his eye, brushing away a tear as one leaked out of the corner of hers. She laughed despite the intensity, a brief respite from the tender and deep emotions passing between them, and whispered, "Move," before kissing him softly.

He moaned and deepened the kiss as he reared back and thrust forward again, beginning a slow but powerful rhythm. He spoke against her lips as he kissed her, as he moved into and out of her, telling her he loved her over and over.

She managed to loop one of her legs around the side of his thigh, urging him even deeper, moaning his name. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, not wanting this moment to end but knowing he was bringing forth the most powerful release she'd ever had faster than either had intended, and sparks flew behind her eyelids when he hit a spot deep within her. "Elliot," she whimpered, her back curling again. "Oh, my God, Elliot." Her voice was high, soft, in a vain attempt to stay quiet.

"God, fuck, Liv," he spat, seemingly punctuating his thrusts. He bit down harder on her neck as he felt her tighten, needing the drive to hit through her clenching because he wasn't ready to let go. He wasn't fucking ready at all.

"El," she moaned, her nails now clawing and dragging up and down his back, leaving red streaks in their wake. "Oh, God. Holy…" and then a moan that seemed to be pulled from her soul escaped, hitting his ears, popping the last bubble of his resolve.

He hiked himself up, almost fully onto his knees, and he growled louder, more ferocious, as he slammed into her three more times, using every ounce of strength he had to work through her tension and resistance. "Fuck," he hissed, feeling his balls tighten, his calves cramp, and his heart crack with sweet surrender. His head dropped forward to hers as he fired off, shooting into her with a silent prayer.

She quivered beneath him, holding him tightly, kissing him with frantic fervor and a cry of his name that gave him chills. They stopped moving, but they didn't stop kissing. He was nestled deep in her as he rolled them over, wrapped her up in his arms, and gave one final upward thrust.

She moaned again, into his mouth, and hooked her legs on his sides, her knees pressing into the mattress. "Oh, my God," she breathed, "Elliot, that was…"

"Liv, baby, that…" he'd panted at the same time, brushing her hair back. He chuckled at their innate synchronicity, kissed her again, and then let his head fall against the lopsided pillow beneath it. "Shit," he huffed, looping his jellied arms around her waist. He kissed the top of her head as she snuggled closer to him and tried to slow her breathing and calm down.

She moaned in pure satisfaction and kissed his damp, heaving chest. She couldn't find words to describe what had just happened, but she knew it was something that had never happened before, and would definitely happen again. She lifted her head slightly and spoke. "El, I…"

His phone rang before she could finish speaking and he cursed under his breath. "Not tonight," he complained, closing his eyes. "I just wanted to hold you for a while." He kissed her head again and twisted his body in an effort to find his phone.

"Your pants," she chuckled, rolling off of him. She exhaled again as she watched his naked body move, his perfect ass in clear view as he slipped away from her and off of the bed. She licked her lips and then closed her eyes, reveling in the after-glow as he found his phone and answered the call, wondering how she was supposed to dive into work now. Her eyes popped open when her bra landed on her head. "Hey!" she laughed.

"Come on, kid," he winked and blew her a kiss. He scratched the back of his head, hoping he could clear his head and separate the professional from the intensified personal before heading into the night. "You, uh...you okay? I didn't…" he cleared his throat and walked over to her as he pulled on a clean tee shirt. He pulled open one of his dresser drawers and tugged out a pair of well-worn jeans. Exhaling, he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"No," her wide eyes stayed on him as she shook her head. "Nothing...nothing about that was even remotely painful." She swiped her hands up his cotton-covered back, squeezed his shoulders, and leaned into him, kissing his neck. "Why would you…"

"Just checking," he whispered, turning his head and capturing her lips. He lingered there, one hand around her neck as the other tried inelegantly to hike up his jeans. He pulled away, but not before giving her two more quick kisses. "I love you," he breathed, his head resting against hers.

She nodded. "I love you," she told him, and she rolled herself up to get dressed. "I think...what happened here...proved that." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Because that was…"

"Yeah," he said while running his tongue over his lips and giving an affirmative head-tilt. "I felt…" he looked into her eyes. "Everything."

As she shoved her arms into a clean button-down, she smiled. "So did I." She fished around in a duffel bag on the floor for a clean pair of pants, and when she found one, she slowly poured herself into them, knowing he was watching her. She shot him a seductive wink, over her shoulder, and laughed to herself when he rolled his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

They needed to snap back into a mode they were no longer sure would fit, to pretend nothing was any different than it had been when they left the station. It would be hard, terribly hard, because tonight, everything had changed.

 **A/N: A new case that threatens to tear them apart at the seams. Next.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** **Wild horses couldn't drag me away** **. (The Rolling Stones- Wild Horses)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"There was nothing," her dry voice croaked out. "Nothing left of her…"

"We've seen this before," Olivia shrugged, her arms crossed over her chest. She took a deep breath and smiled, a stark contrasting move considering the grim situation. She realized she still smelled like Elliot. His scent had permeated her hair, her skin, her clothes. She cleared her throat and looked back at the woman who seemed broken, her shoulders rounded and having with every one of her harsh sobs. "You have to be able to separate your emotions from the shit we deal with. You can't let it…"

Monique Jeffries turned fast, silencing Olivia's words as she wrapped her arms around the younger woman and cried on her shoulder. "I know," she cried. "But she was so...she didn't have a…"

"Easy," Olivia said softly, rubbing Monique's back and looking to her left, hoping someone else would come out into the hallway and make this less awkward. "Hey, calm down. We'll find the guy who…"

"Guy," Jeffries scoffed, peeling herself off of Olivia, something that took a lot of willpower and drive to do. "That's the whole fucking…" she sniffled and wiped her eyes, shook her head, and ran her hands through her tight curls. "Benson, please, don't say anything to Cragen, he'll pull me off this case, and I need to be with you. Work with you. On this. To find the bastard." She spoke quickly and in short, choppy, panicked sentences.

Olivia caught her slip of the tongue but let it slide, owing to her tense emotional state. "Tell Cragen what? Why would he…" and then it hit her. She felt a tightness in her chest, her warning sign that shit was about to hit the fan. "You knew the girl," she said softly.

Monique nodded, her lips curling under and trembling again as her eyes narrowed. She let out a sob as her thumbs looped into the cuffs of her orange shirt. "Ex-girlfriend," she admitted in a very soft whisper. She reached for and took one of Olivia's hands and squeezed, and then whether it was a conscious decision or not, she started running her thumb in slight patterns on the side of it as she spoke. "I tried to keep it together, when we got to the scene, so fucking hard. I went cold, ya know? I couldn't let anyone see any hint of recognition, I couldn't express my shock, or my pain, or my rage, and you were so…" she stopped talking, looked into Olivia's eyes, and she inched closer slowly.

"Hey," Elliot's voice spoke, cool and low. He knew when he rounded the corner he was interrupting something, but now, seeing the way Jeffries was holding Olivia's hand and leaning into her, he didn't feel too bad about cutting it short. "We gotta go, Liv. Cragen wants us to handle telling the parents." He let his eyes drop to her hand, still caught in Monique's fingers, and he looked up at the woman. He pointed at her and said, "Cap needs to see you."

Jeffries chuckled. "Of course he does," she wiped her eyes and dropped Olivia's hand, and said, "Guess he knows."

Elliot nodded. "Vic had a photo of the two of you in her wallet." He tried to give her a soft smile, hiding his irritated and unfounded jealousy. "I'm sorry."

Jeffries shook her head and dragged a hand down her face, clearing her throat. She looked at Olivia, guilt-ridden and solemn. "I know. I know what this must have looked like to you, and you're right. And...I know you're not, um," she cleared her throat again. "I know you're seeing someone. Whoever he is, he's a lucky son of a bitch."

Olivia grinned, but she closed her eyes and argued, "I'm the lucky one." She opened her eyes and noticed both Jeffries and Elliot were now giving her skeptical looks. She shrugged and gave a sideways smile.

Jeffries gave her another smile. "He's luckier," she said. "If he breaks your heart and you decide to swear off men for a while, I…"

"Can't keep Cragen waiting," Elliot said, his eyes now angular. He heard Olivia snicker and watched with intent as Jeffries walked away and turned down the hall. He immediately moved over, leaning against the wall in front of Olivia. "You're leaving me for her, that it?"

"Only in her dreams," she joked, and she looked up at him. "It was weird. Not being with you on this." She bit her lip and smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt with one hand.

He eyed her, moaning as he watched her hand travel over her curves, wishing his own could do the same. "Yeah, already talked to Cragen about that," he discreetly slipped his hand to the side of her hip, between her body and the wall. Gripping, he looked into her eyes. "He said given the fact that the vic's body was found in a lesbian bookstore, me showing up would've been bad. He didn't know, uh, until now, anyway, that Jeffries…"

"She asked me not to tell him," she said, cutting him off and looking up at him. She moved closer to him, the action forcing his hand further around her hip. She felt his fingertips tap at the curve of her ass and she raised an eyebrow at him. "She's really trying to hide it, isn't she?"

"She was," he said, returning her quirked brow. "Think about it. She's a woman on the force, she already gets shit for that, you know better than anyone. She's black, which comes with its share of prejudices in this line of work. So imagine them finding out she's also a lesbian. It would be just another reason she's told she can't do her job, another reason for people to dismiss and discriminate."

She nodded, understanding. "No one here would give her hell for it," she said, poking the inside of her cheek with her tongue. "But I can see why she'd be afraid, even though she is a damn good cop. I hope Cragen doesn't…"

"He's only asking her if she's okay, sending her up to Huang, and benching her for this," he assured. He tilted his head. "She looked like she was gonna kiss you. I know you wouldn't have…"

"Where is that hand going?" she intruded, biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt to hide her smirk.

He wagged his eyebrows at her. "Wherever you want it to," he joked. He sighed, then, hooking his hand around the curve of her ass and letting it linger there. "I'm not sure...how to do this. Work… 'Fives and interrogations, meetings and mandates...the whole time wanting to throw you up against a wall, or lay you down on the nearest desk, kiss you like your life depends on it, fuck you like no one ever has, or ever will again…" he eyed her with a gleaming grin and swiped his palm over her ass. "What a predicament we've gotten ourselves into, hm?"

She smirked back at him and cleared her throat, ignoring the way his words had made her wet and his smile made her melt. "Yeah, well, we need to figure it out, fast, because like you said...we can't keep Cragen waiting, and he wants the parents' statements."

He nodded and moved his hand further down her body, but then he slid it away and shoved it into his pocket. "We should, um...go get this over with, then. I hate this part of the job. It's the news no parent wants, and should never have to get."

"Shit," she breathed. "Yeah." She ran a hand through her hair.

With his free hand, he tugged her arm and headed down the hall toward the elevator. "I, uh, God, this is gonna sound so stupid." He took a breath. "I smell like you," he whispered, leaning into her though his eyes shifted around to make sure no one was watching them too closely. He pushed the button on the wall once they reached it.

She let out a small chuckle. "Funny, I was just thinking...I realized I smell like you," she shrugged, feeling better now that he'd voiced the thought she'd had moments ago. "El, last night…"

"Did I hurt you? Are you okay? Are we...are we okay?" he asked, overlapping her. He tugged on the hem of his jacket as he buttoned it, stepping into the elevator. His eyes were on her as she moved to stand right beside him.

She shot him a questioning look. "If you have to ask, we did it wrong," she told him flatly.

With a hard laugh, he shook his head. "No, baby...we didn't get a chance to revel in it, talk about it…" he smirked. "Go in for round two."

She rolled her neck and shoulders, trying to find a way to ease her sudden tension. "I didn't think we had to talk about it," she told him, but then she finally let the smile that had been begging for existence come to light. "You didn't hurt me. I would have enjoyed round two, though. And three, maybe," she winked, and made a move to head toward the opening metal doors, but her eyes widened and a stunned gasp flew out of her mouth as she felt herself get yanked backward.

His lips were on hers, his tongue sweeping along her teeth before delving into a deeper kiss. He moaned her name and whispered the three words he knew he couldn't say any louder for at least another seven hours, and he pulled back with a breathless nod. "I needed to do that," he told her.

She wiped the corners of her mouth and nodded back. "Damn, El," she chuckled, trying to relax as she turned. She walked out of the elevator, knowing that he would follow, and she said, "What you just said? Ditto." She waved to the receptionist and the security guard.

He smirked and his walk had a bit more swagger in it now. "You are something else, Kid," he teased. "You really are." He gave his tie a sharp tug and then pulled on the fabric of his pants, both seeming now a bit too tight. He heard her laugh and smiled at the sound.

He let his eyes drop, and as he watched his leather shoes moving across the patterned tile, he sighed. He wondered what had happened to his careful, safe life. He thought back to his comfortable, albeit unhappy marriage, and he tried to pinpoint the last time he'd ever genuinely smiled simply because Kathy had laughed.

Fact was he couldn't place it. At all. Kathy had never had such an impact on him. No one had ever been able to get to him like Olivia. The sound of her voice was his music, her laugh was his favorite song. Everything about her turned him on and he fell a little harder with every moment spent with her.

As his eyes rose back to look at her backside, he smirked. He was absolutely fucked, and he didn't mind at all.

"Bright," Olivia muttered as she winced and drew closer to the exit. She pushed the glass doors open, turned and held them for Elliot, but the matching rings of their phones stopped them from walking any further. They looked at each other as they each answered their own call, spouting simultaneous snaps of their last names.

"What?" He sounded stunned.

Her voice was more worried. "Are you sure?"

They both listened for a moment, gave curt acknowledgement, and hung up. "Fuck," he hissed, dragging the palm of his hand over his stubbled chin. "Shit, man."

"El," she breathed, floored. "I'm so...so sorry." She licked her lips and took a step closer to him, letting the door close. "You gonna be okay?" She asked him the question, already knowing his answer. She slowly reached out for him, resting her right hand on his shoulder, squeezing tenderly.

He nodded, biting his lip. "Fine. I'm...fucking fine. Let's just...get this over with." He shook his head disdainfully and scoffed as he shoved his phone back in his pocket. "I'm gonna need to fucking call my mother now, and if this...if it's really…"

"Hey," she whispered as she moved closer to him. She looked into his eyes and didn't care who saw her as she grabbed his hand. "I'm right here, okay? However this plays out, we'll handle it, together. You're not alone, here."

"Thanks, Kid," he whispered back to her, and again, unconcerned with anyone around them, he kissed her lips, quickly and softly. "I love you."

It was the third time he'd said it in less than an hour, and she wasn't sure how to convince herself he meant it. She felt her nerves tighten, the flight or fight kicking in, but she pushed it all back and said, "I love you, too."

She just hoped love was enough to get them through the day, trying to find a balance between the personal and professional was a challenge and they had to follow through leads on an a rough case that now involved Elliot's brother. Then a thought occurred to her and she narrowed both of her eyes as she turned sharply. "Hey," she called to him.

"What?" He tried not to look at her lips. He failed.

She tilted her head. "Why isn't Cragen benching you the way he…"

"Because," Elliot interrupted, scratching behind his ear. "He knows me, and he knows...there's no conflict of interest here. Trust me."

She nodded and pushed open the doors again, watching as he moved past her and out onto the crowded sidewalk. "I trust you," she said, and she felt a chill run down her back. Those words never came easy to her.

Until now.

 **A/N: Do they find time alone? We meet Elliot's brother. Another moment with the kids, and a conversation with Bernie! Next.**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: She only reveals what she wants you to see; she hides like a child but she's always a woman to me. (She's Always A Woman - Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"There's nothing you can do?" Bernie Stabler eyed her son carefully, wringing her hands as she kept them in her lap. "Elliot, he is your brother, he needs your…"

"Half-brother," Elliot snapped, one hand in his left pocket, the other balled into a fist and knocking into the wall he'd been leaning against. "Even if...even if I could, Ma, if his DNA is a match to…" he swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. "I wouldn't help him out of this. A parking ticket, jaywalking, speeding...I wouldn't hesitate, but this? I won't just look the other way with this." He turned his head, his dry and red eyes looking pitifully at his mother. "I can't."

Bernie realized her son had either been crying or trying not to, and she sighed sadly. "How could this be, Elliot? I refuse to believe Kevin could have…"

"He's his father's son," Elliot said, a disdain in his voice that had never been so fully formed before that it frightened him. His eyes shot to the door; through the open blinds, he saw Olivia, a scowl on her face and a file in her hands. She was talking to someone on the phone, who was apparently saying all the wrong things, as she eyed Elliot's brother, Kevin, suspiciously as he sat in the chair beside her desk. Elliot licked his lips as he watched her move, the way she cradled the phone between her ear and her shoulder, the way she flipped through the pages of the file like they were her mortal enemy, the way she clicked the pen in her hand when she was thinking or extremely irritated.

"That's her, isn't it?" Bernie's voice broke into his thoughts. "That's Olivia?" She got off of the hard wooden chair and plopped her bag on the table before walking toward her son. She crossed her arms, tightening her cardigan around her, and she smiled. "Tell me about her."

The smile that instantly graces his lips couldn't be stopped, and he laughed lightly. "Wow, uh…" he didn't know where to begin, apparently. "She's brilliant, I mean it. She's so damn smart, Mom. Strong, in every sense of the word. I swear, she could take down a man three times her size, she's got some pretty killer moves and a whopper of a right hook, dead-aim with a gun and I'm pretty sure she could find her way around a bow and arrow if you asked her to do it. She's got more guts than any cop I know, and she's incredibly resilient. She's been through...so much, so fucking much, and she lets it make her more of a fighter than a victim." He bit the inside of his cheek. "She's selfless, ready to give you the shirt off her back even if it means she'll freeze to death, and she…" he started to say something, but realized that his mother needed to hear another thing entirely. He looked at Bernie. "She loves the kids, Ma. More than anything, like they were her own children. You have to see her with them, she helps them with their homework, reads to them, colors with them, plays with them. She really talks to them, and they...they really listen to her."

Bernie grinned almost proudly at her son, and she nodded, understanding. "Ah," she said, knowing. "She's nothing like Kathy."

Elliot grinned. "That's why I fell in love with her," he admitted. "Well, one of the reasons. There are about a million, so…" he shrugged and relaxed as he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder. He turned, then, and saw the look she was giving him. "I know that look. What?"

She shook her head with an upturned pout. "Nothing, I just…" she smoothed her hand down Elliot's arm and clicked her tongue as she rebuttoned his cuff. "You seem...different. Changed." She looked up and patted his hand as she said, "Is it because of her?"

Elliot squinted. "What do you mean, I'm different?" He pulled his hand out of his mother's, folding his arms and tilting his head. "What, you think because I'm with her, that makes me…she's younger, I get it, but I'm not my…"

"Elliot," Bernie spoke up, stopping him. "I didn't say it was a bad thing. I've noticed things. You call me more often, for one thing. You're happier, you've been spending more time home, with your children. You haven't had any of those episodes that would get your face in the papers."

"Episodes, Ma?" Elliot asked with a mischievous grin. He rolled his eyes, but he knew she was right. There weren't anymore violent outbursts and fights with perps that would blaze in the news. He licked his lips and nodded as he took a step toward the door and watched Olivia move again. She was off the phone and barking orders at people in front of the pin board. "You're right. I'm a little different. A lot. A lot different." He rubbed his forehead. "I can't explain it, but...yeah, I think it's her. She...calms me down, she lifts me up, she...she makes me feel things I haven't felt in so long...if ever." He looked over his shoulder at his mother, a much softer smile on his face. "She…"

"She found you," Bernie whispered, dropping back into her chair. "The parts of you that you promised yourself no one would ever see. The parts that you weren't sure people would like, or the parts that you weren't too fond of yourself." She folded her hands and sighed again, maternal worry falling on her shoulders. "Things that would embarrass you, or make you vulnerable. I did the same thing, for so long. Hid myself away, suppressed the real me with medication and ruse." She flattened her smile. "It wasn't until I'd lost everything...my job, my husband, my children and grandchildren...that I decided to be who I am, and look! I got you all back."

Elliot looked upward, a glum and grim expression on his face, and he whispered, "Not all of us."

"Your father had his own demons," she told him, knowing what he was thinking. "His indiscretions got the best of us, at one point or another. Your brother is…"

"Half-brother," he corrected again, more acidic guilt on his tongue this time.

"Brother," Bernie counter-affirmed, leaning toward him. "Family doesn't come in halves or quarters, Elliot. And Kevin was a surprise, certainly, but he came into our lives when your father was already out of them. In a way, it let us keep a part of him…"

"The lying, cheating, manipulative part," Elliot snapped. "And you have the nerve to come here and beg me to show him some kind of nepotism? Mom, when dad died...the twins weren't even born yet, and God, I had to explain why he was never waking up to the girls, and then this kid who looks exactly like a younger version of me walks into that funeral parlor, tells our entire family that he's Joe Stabler's kid…"

"I was there, I remember," Bernie said to him. "He could have chosen a better time, I admit."

Elliot chuckled and then shook his head and let out a heavy breath. He looked down, picking lint off of his blue button-down, chuckling at how it was the same color as Olivia's. He'd changed in the locker room, yet they still matched. He looked up, then, at his mother. "Mom, I need to tell you something. Uh, well, me and Liv…"

A light knock on the door stopped him from speaking. His head, and Bernie's, snapped toward it as it opened and when Olivia's head poked into the small interview room, they both smiled.

"Am I interrupting?" Her voice was quiet, cautious. A stark contrast to how forceful and strong it had obviously been out in the squadroom.

"No," Elliot said, his tone matching hers. He waved her into the room and signaled for her to close the door. He smiled at her as she drew closer and he looped an arm around her, taking advantage of their moment alone, away from anyone who'd think the wrong things. Or the right ones. "Liv, this is...my mother," he said, gesturing to Bernie. "Bernadette Stabler." He looked over and said, "Mom, this is my...Olivia."

Olivia smiled brightly and held out her hand for a friendly shake, but was taken aback when Bernie stood fast and hugged her. "Oh," Olivia gasped softly with wide eyes, but she quickly gave in and hugged back, her eyes closing. "Wonderful to meet you, really. Your son…"

"Loves you," Bernie said, knowing it wasn't what Olivia was going to say but that it held as much merit. She chuckled, pulling away. "I know. So what did you come in here to tell us? I'm sure it wasn't just to meet me and give my son a glimpse of that pretty face of yours."

Olivia blushed, tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, and cleared her throat. "Well, we, uh...there's a development in the case. I've got good news and bad news." She looked from Bernie to Elliot and back again. "You're definitely related," she commented, noting the identical expectancy on their faces. "So Warner called, and then Ryan called. The prints on the broken beer bottle were definitely Kevin's." She heard Elliot curse and Bernie gasp, but she calmly held up both hands. "Relax, with a little more digging and threatening, Kevin told me he works part-time at the same liquor store the bar usually gets their beer from, which is circumstantial at best, but it explains why…" she waved a hand. "The good news is Warner confirmed the DNA we found on the vic isn't a match to him. He's not going down for this."

Elliot gave an audible relieved sigh and dropped his head against hers. "Whew. Wow. I feel...better now, oddly enough. Okay, uh, so what's the bad news?"

"Bad news is you gotta kiss Momma Stabler goodbye," she whispered to him, picking lint he had missed off of his shirt and flicking it away. "We gotta go bag the bastard that actually raped and killed…"

His kiss cut her off, but it was soft, chaste. Either because his mother was in the room or because they were technically at work, but the occasion simply called for soft. "Okay," he breathed, nodding. "Sorry to cut things short, Ma," he said as he bent over and kissed his mother on the cheek. He hugged her tightly and told her someone in the unit would drive her home, and then he righted himself with a hard exhalation. He turned, watching Olivia open the door to lead him out into the squadroom, and he decided then and there, as soon as they put the case behind them, he'd find all of the parts of her that were still squirreled away, beneath layers of carefully placed facade.

He also needed to find the last part of himself that was still missing, and he knew exactly where it was hiding.

With her.

 **A/N: A moment with the kids and a moment alone! Next.**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: She only reveals what she wants you to see; she hides like a child but she's always a woman to me. (She's Always A Woman - Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

It may have been the case, the shift in their relationship, or the stress of having to deal with family all morning, but Elliot and Olivia had done nothing but fight since their brief calm moment in the interview room.

It started out with a major dissention, torn between believing the vic's family over what the evidence truly suggested, something they'd come to blows with a few times. But then, it became constant bickering over little things. He'd made her coffee too sweet, she'd stapled papers in the wrong order, he'd said something under his breath about not understanding where the vic's mother was coming from because she didn't have kids, she'd stormed out of the room and gave him the cold shoulder for hours afterward.

Cragen got fed up, just as things were growing more intense and verging on physical, and sent the two of them home. Olivia shouted a gruff, "Thank God," as she grabbed her jacket and once again stomped out of the room. She was halfway down the hall before she realized she'd be going home to her empty apartment, alone, for the first time in months, and the thought caused a sharp pain right in the middle of her chest.

With one hand over her rapidly beating and aching heart, she slapped the button on the wall as though it alone was the cause of her pain, and waited for the elevator with tightly shut eyes, trying not to let herself feel anything.

This is why she hated real relationships.

This is why she always kept her paramours at arm's length and refuted any attempt they made at something getting serious.

This is why she ran when it did.

"Fuck," her throat burned when she hissed the word, her entire body regretting that her heart had let itself feel something for someone. Its breaking was its own damn fault. She was lost in her remorse that she didn't hear his heavy steps, she didn't hear him call her name, and he didn't hear him beg the first time.

"Please," he said again; his voice came out desperate, raspy, hot in her ear.

She gasped, turning her head to see his face so incredibly close to hers. "What are you…"

"Please, baby," he repeated, just as deeply desperate but much softer, his head falling against hers. "I didn't mean…"

"You meant it," she whispered, moving away from him to slip through the opening metal doors, knowing he'd follow. Once they shut, however, he pulled her back toward him with force and despair. "El, no," she protested weakly, her own body betraying her by leaning toward him.

He wrapped one large hand around the side of her face and looked into her tired eyes, pain evident and overshadowing every other emotion that stared back at him. "No, I didn't," he told her. "I swear to you." He shook his head as his mouth opened and closed, he looked like a suffocating fish, and he shrugged in defeat. He bent his head and kissed her, hard and powerfully, as his knee lurched forward to press the emergency stop button on the wall.

She yelped into his mouth, but once his strong body pressed into hers, she submitted to him, to what was happening, and to the pent up emotions she had been pushing back all day. "Why," was all she could mutter between long, deep kisses, and it wasn't even a question. Simply a word.

He didn't answer her; he kissed her again, his tongue delving as deep as it could, his hands roaming over her body like Mars Rover reincarnate. Carefully, he slipped on of his large, trembling fingers into the gap between two buttons, teasing the skin just above her bra, between her breasts. It made her moan; it made him smile. "I love you," he whispered, and he repeated it with the addition of a foul word for emphasis.

She gripped his arms, not trusting her legs to keep her standing without help for much longer. She felt his fingers begin to pop the buttons on her shirt, her soft moans of half-hearted protest only made him work faster.

He worked his full hand in and over her left breast, squeezed, and moaned her name. "Shit, baby, all that fucking fighting…" he chuckled, shook his head, and kissed her again as he slipped his hand downward, over her clothes, between her legs.

Unable to help it, she rocked against his large hand, a shivering groan leaving her lips as they reddened and chapped against his. "Why?" she asked, a true question this time, though her voice cracked as she spoke it to life. She whimpered against his moving hand again, and she said something against his lips that he barely understood.

Barely, but definitely.

"What?" he asked breathlessly, pushing her away and looking into her eyes, panicked. "No! God, no, I don't...not for a single fucking second…"

"Because it sure fucking felt like it, today," she snapped, interrupting him. She raked her hands through her hair and with unsteadiness, she punched the button to get the elevator moving again as she buttoned her shirt up. "I swear, there were a few moments there when I thought...you would be happier if it never happened."

"You weren't exactly a peach, either, Kid," he told her, an air of tease in his voice, a hint of a smirk on his face as he smoothed out his tie and attempted to calm himself down.

She didn't find the humor at all. "You get what you give."

He exhaled sharply and licked his lips, and then he said, "Jesus. My mother, Kevin, this case...Jeffries staring at you like a starved alligator…" he shrugged. "It got to me. All of it. And when we got into it about the mother's statement, I...I didn't know where the line was anymore. Are you my partner, yes, but, fucking Christ my entire life lies with you now! It has for...since the moment you…"

"We have to be able to pretend it doesn't!" The words felt like acid on her tongue as she spoke them. "At least...while we're at work. We fucked up, here, Elliot! This!" She waved her hand between them. "This shouldn't have fucking happened!" Her eyes lowered and her voice softened, and when she saw the stark hurt on his face, she lifted one hand to brush against his cheek. "It shouldn't have, but it did, and I wouldn't take any of it back, either, you know that, right?"

He nuzzled against her hand as he nodded.

"So we have to figure out how to find...a balance. How to make this work...at work...or we can't…" she swallowed the lump that formed while she tried to speak. "Or we can't be partners."

The tears running down his face were evidence of how much that realization wounded and terrified him. He chuckled and said, "I'm more possessive of you now. I feel this constant need to...I don't know, prove that you're mine, scare everyone else away. And when I can't get what I want...I become a self-righteous asshole."

She squinted and then it hit her. "You were such a bastard today because you couldn't bend me over the desk in front of Jefferies? You were annoyed with the way she…"

"She wouldn't stop staring at you," he cut into her words, and he took her hand as soon as the elevator gave it's ding and came to a stop. He pulled her out of the opening doors and said, "She even made some comment about your ass, and I realized…" he turned to look at her. "I couldn't agree with her. Not out loud. How fucked up is that? I picked all these stupid, little fights with you because she gets to voice the thoughts that I…" he grew irritated again. "I'm the only one allowed to think those things, damn it, and I can't do it as long as we're up there in that...that...hole!"

"Hey," she snapped, tugging on his hand which was gripping hers very tightly. "Calm down!" She shook her head and moved closer to him, knowing that there were people around who would notice, but they were off the clock so she took the risk. "You're the only one that is allowed to do something about it," she whispered, one brow angled suggestively. "All those thoughts you have? All the things you hear her say that you agree with? The little fantasies that pop into your head between cups of coffee and hard interrogations? You get to live them out, you get to bring them to life. You. Not her. Not anyone else. Ever."

He grinned smugly as he wrapped his other arm around her waist and palmed her ass softly, and he questioned, "Ever?"

She paled. She'd said that, exactly that, out loud, and she meant it. For the first time in her life, she willingly walked into the fire. "Yeah," she nodded, affirming both her deepest desire and greatest fear. She caved, then, and she shrunk into him as she fully bowed to submission. "I love you."

"You don't sound too happy about it," he joked, nudging her with his nose in an effort to get her to look at him. When he watched her roll her eyes and smile, his lips curled into one of their own. "I really...I didn't mean what I said, Kid. I promise. We've already had this conversation, you know how I feel about you and the kids."

She nodded. "It hurt," she admitted, "And I swear, I...I never felt…" she couldn't get the words out. Aside from choking on a stifled sob, she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was the only person in the world who could hurt her so easily, so deeply.

He knew, though, and he regretted letting the words fly out of his mouth so carelessly. "I wasn't...it wasn't directed at you, I was angry, I was...in a way, I guess, I thought I was talking to her." He said the last word like it tasted sulfuric, bitter and acrid.

She tilted her head. "Who?"

He made a disgusted face, his lips working themselves into a twisted M shape. "Jeffries."

She laughed and swatted him in the arm with her free hand, and then turned to pull him toward the station's glass doors, when four little bodies rushed in front of them. The arms and hands became a tangled mess of limbs, mumbles of "daddy," "Liv," and something that sounded like "llama" hit their ears, and the smells of crayons and cupcakes invaded their lungs. "What are you all doing here?"

Maureen, the oldest Stabler child, looked up with a toothy grin. "We had Mom drop us off here!"

Kathleen looked at her father, "I know we're early, but I thought we'd have time to do our homework in the…"

"Early," Olivia interrupted, and then shot Elliot a quizzical glance.

He smirked, winked, and said, "Surprise!" As he leaned over to her, he discreetly kissed a spot behind her ear as he whispered, "I told you, I didn't mean it. You...you're amazing. You're an incredible…"

"I'm not their mother," she countered before he could say it, and then she looked down at the four little faces, sighing as she thought _But I wish I was._ "So, again, what are you doing here?"

"We have reservations at DiNardi's," Elliot said, leading his clan through the doors and onto the sidewalk. "They're not for another two hours, because I thought we'd be at work, but then Cragen kicked us out."

"So what are we gonna do for two hours?" Olivia asked with a playfully curious lilt.

He winked at her again and then looked at his kids, grinning. He checked his watch, gave a victorious whoop, and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. He gave Kathleen a shove, telling her to lead the group down the street, and he dialed a number he knew by heart but hadn't used in years. "Luke? Hey, man, it's Elliot. Yeah, Stabler, how the hell many Elliots do you know?" He rolled his eyes and laughed. "Listen, I'm calling in one of the eight-hundred-and-three favors you owe me. Six. Yes. On the way, now, actually, I knew you couldn't say no to me. Thanks, man. Bye." He looked at Olivia and her face asked the question he knew her voice never would. He leaned over, kissed, her and said, "A friend of mine works in the theater district, and he basically owes me his life. We're going to see Frozen. By the time it gets out, we should be just barely fashionably late for dinner."

She tilted her head. "El, what are you…"

"Dates," he shrugged. "I'm not good at them, I haven't been on one since high school and I sucked at it then, too. I figure...why not make the special moments between us...a family thing." He reached for her hand, linked his fingers with hers, and gave a tight squeeze. "This...this has felt more like a family since, ya know, you and me...and I know we've only been in the house for a couple of days, but it…"

"You really didn't mean it," she said, almost as though it surprised her.

He shook his head, kissed her again, and pulled her close to him. He looped his arm around her, kissing her every few steps as they walked toward the theater, with thoughts of how to make up for being a bastard running through his head.

 **A/N: Ah, tension. What a wonderful thing! Is there more? Maybe. You tell me...**


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N:** **She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you. She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you. (She's Always A Woman - Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"Dad, you and Liv had a lot of grape juice at dinner," Dickie's groggy voice accompanied his little hand rubbing his eyes. He stifled a yawn and looked up at his father.

Elliot chuckled. "Yeah, uh…" he shot Olivia a furtive glance and licked his lips, tasting both wine and her kiss lingering on them. "We like grape juice." He shrugged and lifted his son into his arms, carrying him the rest of the short walk to the front door. He watched as Olivia opened it, then smiled as he saw her keying in the alarm code as he ushered his sleepy children up the stairs. Once the last tiny tot was out of view, and he heard two doors slam shut, he folded his arms, sighed contentedly, and turned around. "That was…"

"Fun," Olivia nodded, smiling. She felt the warmth of his body envelope her before she felt his arms around her. She closed her eyes and sunk backward into him. "It was nice." She chuckled when he kissed the top of her head. "Very nice."

"My mother was right," he whispered to her, beginning to rock her in his arms. "I am...different. Because of you." He kissed her again, but screwed up his face when he felt her shift and turn in his hold.

She looked up at him with a question mark expression. "When did she say that?"

"When we were talking...in the…" he blinked once. "Before you walked into the…"

"Oh, right," she relaxed and shook her head slightly. "Wow, uh, you think so?"

He grinned and pulled her back to him, this time chest to chest, as he peered down into her eyes. "Put it this way," he said dryly. "I would rather have had chewed off my own arm than spend a night like tonight with Kathy." He kissed her softly, moving backward, leading her toward the staircase in slow, almost unnoticeable increments. "You bring out the man in me."

She laughed and nuzzled his nose. "I'm pretty sure you were all man before I even…"

"Listen, Kid," he stopped her with a severity in his words that commanded silence. "I'm serious. The man I always wanted to be, the man my father never was. Close to my kids, making time for all the right things, in a relationship that is equal and passionate and just so fucking perfect...the kind of man who fights for it all and doesn't wake up regretting every fucking choice ever made," he paused and licked his lips as he started pulling her up the steps. "I used to go to work early to escape, stay late to avoid the chaos that this house used to be fucking filled with, but now, I...I get up early...with you. We have breakfast, we get the kids ready, we take them to school, we get to work and I'm in a good fucking mood until we get thrown into a case…" he stopped at the top of the stairs, turned and looked at her. "And I'm still not as miserable as I used to be, because I'm fighting the battle with you. With a partner I trust, so fucking fully, and I've never had that before, so even in the worst pile of God-damn shit we could possibly step in, I'm the best cop I've ever been, the best man I have ever been, because of you."

She was still silent, staring at his twitching upper lip and flaring nostrils, and she knew he was on the verge of either crying or laughing like hell, and decided to prevent both by rushing into him, kissing him, hard and fast.

His hands wound into her hair as quickly as she'd moved, and he shot out an arm to open his bedroom door. He flung into it with a grunt, still kissing her, and without breaking contact at all, he began peeling away the layers of New York-scented cotton that separated their skin.

Her fingers worked as fast as his, her palms searching out every button and zipper they could find. Clothes flew fast, landing in haphazard piles on the carpet.

He growled as his right hand curled itself into a fist around the thin silk at her hip, and he grunted as he pulled hard, tearing it away from her like a piece of notebook paper from its spiral binding. He tossed it away with a victorious chuckle and moved his hand back to its spot behind her neck.

It was her turn, now, to devour, to explore, to fully consume every single inch of him, and she took advantage as soon as she let the last bit of fabric fall from her hand. She pulled away from him, breathless and red-lipped, and she eyed him carefully as her hands splayed over his chest. She moved them, slowly, along his muscles, deliberately feeling every twitching bit of him beneath her touch.

He moaned softly, surprising himself, as he felt her fingertips graze over his stomach, down his powerful thighs, along the insides of his legs, and he bucked upward in surprise when he felt her delicately trace the edges of his growing, throbbing length. "Holy shit," he shivered, tension building along with the deepest feelings of intimacy he'd ever known. He tilted his head, watching her move, and his eyes traveled up to see the look of pure curiosity on her face, as if she were studying him.

Memorizing him.

She was.

Her right index finger followed the outline of a tattoo, on a patch of skin to close to his dick to be considered his hip, too far away to be crude. "How did…"

"Drunk," he told her, one word, whispered, answering her unasked question about how, exactly, he'd allowed such a place to be exposed to the artist. "Wasn't too long ago, so, uh, you're the first person that's actually…"

"Only," she interrupted, raising her gaze to meet his and narrowing her eyes in a very clear and honest threat.

He smirked at her. "Damn right," he nodded. Then his heart thumped and his stomach clenched, seeing her head drop, her body slip lower, her eyes boring into his as she curled her soft fingers around his thickness and ran her cupped hand up and down the length of it.

She licked her lips once, taking in the sight of it, the feel of it pulsing in her hand, committing to memory the weight of it, the girth, the color. And then she moved, one more time, and wrapped her hot mouth around him.

His head dropped backward, hitting his pillow as a long, low groan filled the air. "Jesus," he hissed, feeling her take more of him in, down her throat. "Oh, fucking…" his voice cracked and fell away as he gathered her hair in his hands, like a ponytail, and whispered, "I love you," as she slipped away, engulfed him again, and hummed around him.

She heard him whimper and hummed again as she kept sucking him, slowly, taking her time, loving the taste of him, and taking pride in the effect she had on him. She could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust his hips, the way he pulled her hair let her know he was losing control, and as soon as she slipped away from him, she knew.

He pulled her up, yanked her down to kiss him, and shifted his weight until he worked her over him. One hand kept grip on the back of her head, holding her down to him, the other palmed her ass and squeezed as he bucked up into her. He caught her cry in his mouth, it mixed with his reverberating growl, and he moaned a mumbled version of her name as he pressed her down even further, trying desperately to sheath himself fully inside of her.

She stretched around him, taking him in, settling against him when he bottomed out, skin meeting skin. She stilled, embracing the moment as she kissed him slowly, letting herself not only adjust to his size and how completely he filled her, but letting herself _feel_ it just as fully. When it became too agonizing, she rose off of him knowing he would thrust again, finding a rhythm all their own.

Sweet words were whispered between kisses sharply contrasting his possessive and almost dominant actions, and he flipped her over to further prove his demanding insistence that she was his, only his, while at the same time desperately trying to convince her he was hers. "Liv," he choked out, his throat dry as his freight train body drove into her. He slid one hand down, hooked it behind her knee, and pulled up, looping her leg around his back.

She arched and gasped, the new angle pulling him deeper as he moved harder, faster, longer strokes, more powerful hits. Her nails dug into the thin skin between his shoulder blades, she could feel it snap and hear him seethe, but his more eager kisses told her he loved it. Testing her theory, she scraped her nails down his back and was rewarded with a harder thrust, a curse and moan of her name, and when he nipped at her lip, bit it and tugged, she moaned back at him.

He chuckled as he pulled his mouth away from hers and reattached it to her neck, teeth sinking into flesh, her "fuck, Elliot," hitting his ears and her nails curling deeper into whatever skin they lay upon. He grunted again and thrust harder still, amazed at the unbridled give and take, the pure want and need, the unnamed emotions bubbling to the surface that he'd never felt before in his life.

"El," she whimpered, turning her head. She dragged her hooked leg further up his body, trying to pull herself further around him. "El, oh God, Elliot," she mumbled as her head thrashed to the side, a burning beginning at the very bottom of her body and engulfing every cell on its way up. "Elliot," she gasped.

"Fuck, Liv," he cursed, pushing and pulling and thrusting against her tightening resistance. "Liv, baby," he said through gritted teeth, knowing he couldn't last much longer but trying like hell to wait for her. Ladies first, after all. He felt her clench him, her body undulating around him, beneath him, and he gave her one final hard thrust before he stilled deep in her and kissed her just as hard.

She trembled and shook as she came, his name repeatedly falling off her tongue in quick, rapid breaths.

He grunted as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, whispering obscenities and professions of love, sharply contrasting but fitting. "Fuck," he panted, calming and slowly rolling them over, "I love you."

She nodded, her damp forehead rubbing against his heaving chest, and she whispered, "I love you." She settled against him, her body melting over his, keeping him nestled inside of her as he relaxed into the mattress and wrapped her in his arms. She closed her eyes, the feeling of his fingers playing with her hair coaxing her into an exhausted, sated state of pure bliss.

"Damn," he breathed, his own eyes succumbing to closure. "Fucking perfect," he mumbled.

She let out an affirmative sound as she nuzzled against him, not sure what he meant but knowing anything he could have been talking about was absolutely perfect. She shifted her hips a bit, causing them both to moan again, and nestle closer to each other. They shared a laugh and a soft kiss, and she dropped her head into the bend of his neck.

There was a peaceful quiet, the soft sounds of matching breaths and easy sighs lulled them to sleep, and it seemed like only seconds before they were jolted awake by the blaring squeal of their simultaneous ringtones. "Fucking hell," he groaned, running a hand down his face. He moved, and then moaned again as he rolled his eyes, forgetting until then that he was still buried in his lover. He reached over to the side table and grabbed his cell phone. "Stabler," he mumbled, feeling Olivia's body straining to do the same without breaking their connection. "What...um, okay, yeah. Uh...we'll be there in…" he scoffed and looked over at Olivia. "He fucking hung up on me."

She laughed as she moved, sitting up to a straddle. "I hate this part," she whispered, and her eyes fluttered closed when his palms grazed over her nipples, hardening them.

"Me, too," he told her, sliding his hands downward. He grabbed her hips and lifted her off of him, groaning at their disconnect. "Shit," he spat, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Who called you?"

"Munch," she told him, padding over to the closet that now housed a few of her clothes. "Said we have to meet some rookie at the scene, walk him through the first steps," she explained.

"Cragen said the same thing to me," he told her, coming up behind her and reaching around her to pull a shirt off of a hanger. "Not so nicely. Didn't use the word 'rookie," he said with a hint of suggestion. "Apparently Cragen owes another cop another favor, and this newbie is it."

Olivia turned, kissed him, and moved away to find a clean set of underwear and a bra in the unpacked bag near the bed. "Maybe it won't be so bad," she shrugged.

"Baby," he chuckled, striding up to her and kissing her again, "Another set of hands in this unit? A fifth wheel? This can only lead to trouble."

 **A/N: Oh no, their happiness is, of course, short lived! But for how long? And who is the rookie? (Reviews are like cookies. I am like Cookie Monster. Correlative conclusion? ;)**


	29. Chapter 29

**A/N:** **It's not always easy to be living in this world of pain. You're gonna be crashing into stone walls again and again** **(Only Human - Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"I don't like the way he looks at you," Elliot almost growled. His eyes were narrow, his arms folded, his shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up.

Olivia scoffed at him. "You don't like the way anybody looks at me," she countered. Her gaze was directed at the glass panel in front of her; she didn't so much as shift her eyes in Elliot's direction.

He leaned closer to her, his focus on her ear and breath hot on her neck as she refused to look at him. "No, this...this is different. I know what that look means, because it's exactly how I used to fucking look at you before…"

"He's doing this wrong," she sighed, shoving her hands in her pockets. Her brown pants made soft shifting noises as she moved. "He's gonna cost us this conviction, the…"

"Are you listening to me?" he interrupted, his voice a bit more perturbed.

Finally, she turned and looked at him, her eyes dark and dangerous. "Honestly? I'm trying not to, okay? We got a guy in there, interrogating the only suspect we have, and he's blowing it! I can't have a conversation about him staring at my lips while he's in there, single-handedly setting a rapist loose!"

"He's been staring at more than just your lips," Elliot grumbled, turning his furious eyes toward the glass. "And I'm not letting him do this," he spat just before shooting out a hand and pulling open the metal door to the interrogation room. He slammed it shut behind him.

Olivia watched and listened as Elliot yanked the line of questioning out from under their rookie's feet, focusing his aggression and agitation into a very pointed and fiery series of accusations aimed at their suspect.

The younger, shorter detective backed away and leaned against the wall as Elliot not only got a confession but earned a childlike cry from the suspect and had him begging for his mommy. It didn't take more than a few minutes, and Olivia couldn't take her eyes off of Elliot the whole time. Something about the way he moved when he was angry, the way his muscles twitched beneath the silk of his shirt. She cleared her throat and licked her lips, calming down enough to appear relatively normal before Elliot moved to leave the box.

When the door swung open again, Elliot came out first, flying past her with a heat radiating off of him like steam from hot coals. Their new colleague followed, hands in his pockets and shoulders slumped, like a kid who got pulled out of his little league game. If there was sand at his feet, he would've been kicking it up.

Olivia sighed and left the weeping suspect in the room beyond the glass with his slack-jawed lawyer as she followed the two men out into the bullpen. "Elliot nailed him," she said to Cragen as she passed him, heading straight for the coffee table. "Your new guy was about to…"

"I know," Cragen interjected. "This was his to lose," he shrugged, "But I'm glad you two had his back in there, anyway. Especially you, Stabler."

"I didn't do it for him," Elliot barked, one eyebrow arched and his lips curled downward. He shot his captain a hard look and then turned the venomous gaze toward their new teammate. He scowled, watching the poor kid struggle to get his desk's filing drawer open. His short, light hair fell in sloppy spirals into his eyes. His suit was two sizes too big, a shade of green that resembled pea soup, and his shiny shoes covered a pair of dingy gym socks. It didn't seem as though he was remotely capable of growing any facial hair; it was well after six and there was no five o'clock shadow to speak of on his chin, while Elliot himself could do with a full shave about now.

With a disdainful grunt, Elliot clomped over to the younger detective and swatted his hand away from the metal handle. "You got Briscoe's old desk." He balled his hand into a fist and knocked on the drawer hard, and then looped his fingers through the handle and pulled. "Gotta show it who's boss." He nodded once, at the desk, not the rookie.

"Thanks." The younger man scratched his head and simpered as he held his other hand out. "We, uh, we never got to actually…" he cleared his throat. "Brian. Cassidy. Brian Cassidy."

Elliot shook his hand and tried to keep his chuckle indiscernible. "Yeah, I know who you are," he said. He let Cassidy's hand go without returning the introduction and let out a short breath as he moved toward the coffee pot. He swerved, stepping in front of Olivia before she could get closer to her desk or chair. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She raised one eyebrow and blew softly over the mouth of her coffee mug.

He chuckled, loving how adorable she looked even when she was pissed off at him, and he said, "Seriously, Kid, I'm sorry for...acting like a jealous asshole." He shrugged. "Can't help it. Not with you. This is still...relatively new. It's the most intensely serious..." he licked his lips, knowing the risk of saying the word 'relationship' in the squadroom. "It is, and I...I don't trust…"

"You don't trust me?" she questioned, offended and hurt. She contemplated throwing her still-hot coffee at him.

He shook his head fast. "Not what I meant," he coughed once. "I don't trust this, yet...I keep feeling like it's all too perfect, that it's gonna come crashing down around me because I don't know how to do this anymore." He chewed on the inner part of his lower lip for a moment. "I never had to try, I mean...with Kathy, it was a couple of movies and a rebellious moment in the back of my dad's truck that led to ten years of complacency and remorse." He licked his lips and blew hard through his nostrils as he wrung his hands together to keep from holding hers. "I don't know how to be anyone's boyfriend, I've always been someone's husband. No chance of a breakup that wouldn't cost a thousand bucks." He exhaled sharply again. "I don't know how not to be jealous, how not to be possessive of you, because there is a chance, here. A chance I could lose you. I'm just this guy...damaged goods and fresh off the boat, so to speak, and there are a million reasons for you to leave me."

Her face softened. The absolute love in his eyes and genuine fear on his face tugged at her heartstrings, and she took a sip of her coffee before she spoke. "But I have one fucking good reason to stay." Her eyes drove into his, searching out the deeper shades of blue, and she whispered. "I love you." And as she caught Cragen's curious expression over Elliot's shoulder, she cleared her throat. "And that is the last time this, uh, particular subject comes up at work, got it?" She shot him a wink and sidestepped, heading over to her desk and sitting. She brought the coffee up to her lips again, but before she could sip, their suspect and his attorney came out from the back room.

"Benson," the lawyer grinned appreciatively as he looked her up and down, "Always such a pleasure to see you. Pity you weren't in there with me. I always enjoy watching you...work." He swallowed a soft laugh. "Anyway. Just wanted to say that...I had every intention of having the charges dropped and the case tossed out, your boy over there was sinking in his swimmies." He shot Elliot a hateful look then. "But you came in and...well, now, I'm congratulating you. We'll take the deal."

Olivia looked up and over at Elliot, who smirked cockily and tugged on his tie. She turned back to the lawyer. "Good of you, Langan," she said with a nod. She finally took her paused sip of coffee, and she swallowed with a hum. "But we didn't offer any…"

"He did," Trevor Langan pointed to Brian Cassidy, whose head popped up like a startled poodle. "He put five on the table. Three if my client gave up his buddies." He held up a notebook, the first few pages clearly filled with chicken-scratch writing. "He did, so where do we go to negotiate the terms of…"

"Are you out of your mind?" Elliot asked, directing the question and an amazed glare at Cassidy. He laughed bitterly as he swiped a hand over his chin, reminding himself again that he needed to shave, and he looked at Cragen. "You said it was his to lose," he quipped, "Guess that's exactly what he did."

Cragen rolled his eyes and pressed his lips together in frustration. "Langan, Cassidy," he said, pointing back to the hallway they'd just walked through, "Please?" He called toward Munch, then, and told him to bring the suspect down to a holding cell while he dealt with the repercussions of trusting a rookie with the heavy lifting.

Munch peered at the rough-looking man over his wire-rims, and he mumbled to himself about how sometimes he had been given simple busywork due to his age. He grabbed the slovenly fellow and pulled him almost violently through the door, unaware that three pairs of eyes were staring after him.

"So, that Cassidy. I think he's a Pisces," Jeffries said after a long, tense silence, tilting her head. "They're often a little on the…"

"We really don't care," Elliot complained, giving her a slit-eyed glare. "I mean, no offense, but the sun and moon can't dictate someone's ability to do this job. He fucking blew it, and it's not because of planetary alignment." He plopped into his seat with a garbled curse, reached over, and grabbed Olivia's coffee. He didn't even ask before bringing it to his mouth and gulping half of it down. "Place gets more and more like a fucking three-ring circus every day," he complained.

"What crawled up your ass?" Jeffries snarked, crossing her arms as she stepped over to him. Her salmon colored shirt swished as she sat on the corner of his desk. "Or should I ask, who?"

"Excuse me?" His eyes were incredibly narrow, his tongue poked against the inside of his cheek.

Jeffries bent over, her suspenders stretching as she did, and she shook her head as she whispered to him. "I haven't seen you this worked up since you started having issues with Kathy, which means it's been a few years. Someone's got your boxers wound too tight." She tilted her head. "Kathy came home, didn't she?"

Elliot snorted and leaned back in his chair, putting Olivia's mug on his desk. "I'm not breaking out in hives, vomiting profusely, or checking into an asylum, so no." He rolled down the sleeves of his pale blue shirt and asked, "I don't like the newbie. Got under my skin, and Cragen's holding his fucking hand! My first day here, I was told I sink or swim, and I do it on my own! Liv got thrown into the deep end without a vest, too! What's this bastard getting the kid glove treatment for?"

Jeffries chuckled and kicked her left foot up onto her right knee. "You need to get laid."

He leaned back a bit further, smirked wickedly, and said, "Oh, that's not the problem. Uh, someone's been taking very good care of that." He wagged his brows. "Every night."

Jeffries laughed and then turned her head over her shoulder. She sent a longing but unnoticed look at Olivia. "What about her? Haven't heard her talking to that boyfriend of hers for a while. They break up?"

"Uh," Elliot stiffened, he sat forward and dropped his feet to the floor. "No, she just...keeps it out of work." He shrugged and swiped her mug into his hand as he rose. "Stop trying, okay? She's clearly not…"

"Hey, I stopped barking up her tree," she interrupted. She eyed him for a moment. "But you...you took my place at the roots, huh?" She flicked his collar and gave a curt nod. "You match again."

He shifted his gaze and noticed that Olivia's turtleneck was, yet again, the same color as his tie. He pursed his lips to keep from grinning and shrugged as he stood up and moved to make his partner another cup of coffee.

Jeffries sighed as she moved back to her own desk and got lost in her paperwork.

Almost silently, Elliot stepped behind Olivia and dropped the coffee in front of her. "A peace offering," he said, and he tugged her hair lightly.

She turned her head and looked up at him, smiling as warmly as she could. "Neither one of you whisper very quietly," she said. "And she was right. Ya know, you do." She sipped the coffee he had given her. "Need to get laid. Probably." She winked at him and added, "Might calm you down."

"That look in your eyes, and what you just said," he shifted his weight and gripped the back of her chair. "Opposite of calming me down, thanks."

She chuckled and took another sip of her coffee, and just as she was about to give him something else to think about, Cragen barreled back into the squadroom and pointed at them, barking, "You two! One PP! Now! Tucker's request!"

Langan walked out whistling, Cassidy trudged to his desk, and Cragen locked himself in his office.

Olivia chugged the rest of her coffee, figuring she'd need it, and stood up as Elliot grabbed their coats and his car keys. "Tucker never goes through Cragen to get to us," he said softly to Olivia. "Something's up."

 **A/N: Oh boy! Tucker? (Reviews are like chips. I like snacks. Correlative conclusion? ;)**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N:** **You're only human, you're bound to make your share of mistakes.** **(Only Human - Billy Joel)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"Does anyone else know about this?" Olivia asked, narrowing her eyes. "We aren't covering anything up, here, so if you ask us to, we're…"

"I'm not asking you to," Tucker interrupted. "That's why I requested the two of you. I know you'll get it done, the right way, and you won't try to sweep this under the rug." He eyed Elliot for a moment. "You won't let anyone threaten or pressure you into letting it go," he nodded.

"Someone already tried," Elliot said, tugging on his tie. "We got railroaded on the way in here, some schmucks in the lobby knew why were here."

"Yeah." Tucker cleared his throat and sat up straight. "They're the guys I kicked off the case, caught them trying to manipulate the evidence and discredit the vic."

"The vic," Elliot scoffed, "You mean his wife." He shook his head and leaned forward, dropping his elbows to his knees. "As angry as I was, and I mean, I would go home from work fucking furious some days…" he ran his tongue around in his mouth and shook his head again. "Never. I have never raised my hand to my ex-wife, any of my kids...except...but I never hit…" he grunted and looked up at Olivia. "I never will. Ever. I swear." He dropped his gaze back to Tucker. "Wife or not, a woman says no, it's fucking no. There's no excuse, no justification for…" he eyed Olivia again, this time trying to tell her something important. "If my girlfriend, wife, whatever...ever says she isn't in the mood...it's end of discussion."

"Stabler, you don't have to preach at me, okay?" Tucker held up a hand and made an offended face. "I'm not condoning any of this, and sure as hell don't think you're gonna sympathize with the bastard. Why the hell do you think I called you in on this?" He looked toward Olivia, raised one eyebrow and told her, "You handle it delicately, but by the book. Any evidence comes up that proves he's the perp, here, you bag him, hear me? I won't get in the way."

Olivia inhaled deeply, folded her arms, and she nodded. "Is that it? Usually, you need us on a case, you call one of us directly. Why go through Cragen this time?"

Tucker bit his lip. "Caught that, huh?" He sighed and rubbed a hand across his chin, and then scratched down his neck. "The Delinski case," he said, folding his hands and plopping them on the desk. "You, uh, you handled that...exceptionally well. Both of you," he glanced at Elliot. "I've been asked to…"

"Wait a minute," Olivia's breath hitched and she fingered the hem of her sweater nervously as she recalled every conversation she and Elliot had with Christine Delinski. "Why wouldn't we handle any case as…"

"You know why," Tucker intruded, sharp-toned and with an expression that seemed to tell her to cut the crap. "That one hit pretty damn close to him, for a number of reasons, am I right, Benson?"

Olivia was taken aback. Stunned, she stiffened, straightened, and her head turned pointedly toward Elliot. "You…"

"I didn't tell him anything," Elliot spat before she could even voice the question. He stood fast and moved toward her. "You told me things in confidence, and when I make a promise, I keep it! Especially the ones I make to you!"

"Uh, hi, hello," Tucker called to them, waving a hand. "Still in the room, here." When the two upset detectives looked at him, he blew a hard breath through his lips. "Your partner didn't tell me shit, Benson. Your captain did." He held out both hands and shrugged. "With your unit up for review in a few weeks, I had to run a few checks…" he narrowed his eyes. "Figure out why half your file was written in invisible ink."

"You son of a…" Elliot's hand grabbed hers, calming her before she could spit out the rest of the insult. "You could have just asked me!"

"Oh, because you would have been so forthcoming," Tucker intoned sarcastically with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "My point here…" he picked two thick envelopes up off of his desk, "Is that because of your ability to put personal shit aside and do the job...better than practically anyone in this fucking department, you've both been recommended to take the sergeant's exam."

Elliot took the two envelopes from Tucker, his face a pure question mark, and he handed one to Olivia. He noticed she looked just as puzzled. "Me? Up for a promotion?" He scoffed and scraped his nails down the back of his neck. "I got enough red threads in my file to knit a sweater. Who...who made that recommendation, exactly?"

Tucker smirked, tilted his head, and said, "Me." He picked up a pen, clicked it, and readied himself to get back to work. "You made a couple of mistakes, but, uh, none recently, am I right? None that merited any new black marks?"

"No, i guess...everything's been justified," he shrugged, "But you really think both of us..."

Tucker cut him off again. "I do, yes," he scribbled his name on a file and flipped it over. "Now, uh, I need those forms filled out by Thursday, I'll let you know the testing date, and remember, I need everything you get on Andrews. You bring it to me before you bring it to your captain, hear me?"

Olivia nodded, now feeling a bit guilty for hating Tucker so adamantly. "Yeah," she hit the exam application against her palm. "Thanks, ya know. For this."

"You both deserve it," Tucker said, and then he caught Elliot's eye. "You would have taken this test a long time ago, but for some reason...you never worked as well as you do now. Maybe it's because you never had a partner you had so much, uh, chemistry with." He conveyed his deeper meaning with a nod.

Elliot smiled and said, "Listen, Ed, you know damn well that's the damn truth." He laughed, feeling a bit more relaxed knowing the side of Tucker he was genuinely friends with did outweigh the hardass IAB sergeant. "Come on, Kid," he said, resting a hand on Olivia's shoulder, "Let's get to…"

"Review," Olivia said, as if just hearing Tucker say it. "What kind of review. The Morris…"

"Annual personnel review," Tucker overlapped, his head down as he signed papers. "Psych evals, jacket review, and, if the two of you pass that test, promotions."

Olivia squinted. "Both of us? Don't you think that's a little…"

"Not to sergeant, Benson," Tucker affirmed for her. "That will probably come in time, to be honest, but the test is just a formality. You pass, then you each move up in the ranks. You won't need to take the test again until you do make sergeant, and then...only if you plan on becoming a lieutenant. You got time for that, but I don't think either of you deserves to be as low on the totem pole as you are." He finally looked up, into Olivia's eyes, and said, "I'm gonna need my two best, more often than not, and I'm gonna need you to side-step a couple of regulations and pull rank to cut through a lot of red tape, sooner or later. I prefer sooner."

Elliot's eyes flickered as he nodded, wondering what the hell it all meant, but he prodded Olivia closer to the door and used his elbow to push it open. "Thanks," he called, an afterthought, and let the door close and click shut as he nudged Olivia down the hall. "The faster you walk, the greater our chances of getting out of here before he asks for any more favors."

She chuckled and picked up her pace. "You once told me he wasn't such an asshole outside of work," she reminded him. "I have yet to see that side of him."

"You just got a glimpse," he told her, leading her through the stuffy, crowded hall of One Police Plaza. "He's pulling string for us, Kid. That's what he was trying to tell us."

She arched a brow as she pushed through the front doors and headed out into the New York night.

Elliot stopped walking, grabbed her arm, and pulled her close. He kissed her, a long and deep kiss that would potentially be dangerous this close to the boss's office. "He knows," he whispered against her lips. "He's trying like hell...to make us indispensable, before our reviews come up, so if Cragen eventually does find out, he can't do shit about this. About us."

"That's what Tucker meant. All that side-stepping policy and cutting red tape bullshit, that was him letting us know he's got our backs?" She exhaled and ran her right hand down his arm. "You gonna be able to handle this thing with Andrews?"

"Will you?" he countered, taking her hand. He held it as they walked, heading only a few blocks away to a different precinct, where their partnership, relationship, and self-control would all be put the test.

Something, they knew, Tucker wanted all along.

 **A/N: What happens now? A full day at work must mean a relaxing night at home, huh? And how's Olivia's tattoo doing these days? (Reviews are like butterflies. I love to see them fly. Correlative conclusion? ;)**


	31. Chapter 31

**A/N:** **If I had my way, surely you would be closer. I need you closer. (Get Here - Oleta Adams)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"My head is killing me," Olivia complained, peeling her turtleneck off over her head. She sighed, the ease and comfort of putting Elliot's kids to bed somehow tainted by the remnants of their current case. "Andrews and his fucking condescending misogynistic…"

"Hell, can we not bring him up?" Elliot gingerly touched the side of his nose, sore and swollen after an altercation with their suspect and his friends. "We got him dead to rights, so we don't need to dwell on anything he said."

"The way he talked about his wife," she paused, shook her head, and let out a disgruntled scoff as she pushed her pants down over her hips. "How does a relationship...a marriage become...that?"

Biting his lip, Elliot undid the knot in his tie. "Resentment," he said firmly, "Comes when the love is gone but the shame of divorce isn't something…" he cleared his throat and looked away from her, seeing the knowing realization in her eyes. "Don't go there. It wouldn't have happened, not like that, ever."

"I know," she softly assured, walking toward the cherry wood dresser that had become half hers. "You and Andrews, you're nothing alike. You also...you have ways of channeling your anger and never brought it home. He focuses his rage on…"

Her bemoaning speech was silenced by his fierce kiss. His lips covered hers and stifled her moan; his tongue swept in and took control. At the same time, his hands pawed at her body in desperation as they pulled at her satin underwear and tugged at her bra.

Lost and unable to stop herself, she reacted in kind, attacking his suit and disheveled tie until bits of silk and cotton stripped off of him and fell to the bedroom floor. She moaned, feeling his palms graze her nipples, hardening them. She leaned into him, eager for more, begging him for it.

He chuckled, knowing exactly what she wanted, and pulled her flush against him. When he moved, his chest rubbed against her beaded and perked buds, causing her to whimper. His hands flew to the back of her head, tangling and pulling at her hair. The growl that escaped him as he hurled her onto the mattress made him especially grateful that his kids were all sound asleep.

Her breath was ragged and quick;her eyes were focused on him as he bent his head and left a trail of hot kisses from her neck to her ankles. Her body tingled, electric heat flowing through every vein, and she dropped her head when he began making his way back up. She moaned, anticipating, waiting, but her head popped up when she felt his mouth land just a bit to the left of where she ached for him the most. "What are you…"

He silenced her again, but this time it was with his silent intimacy. He was licking her scar, her tattoo. He slipped a hand in between her legs, two fingers giving her slit the attention it demanded. He was so very close, her scent was driving him mad with need but this moment too important to waste. He kissed the sun's lips, and then the moon's, before slowly tracing the edges of the ink with his tongue again. There was more meaning to her tattoo now, more of a reason for him to worship it and the woman to whom it belonged.

With a soft, trembling moan, she scratched lightly at his scalp and neck, feeling his fingers push deeper into her, twisting slowly. Her back arched slightly, shoving his fingers deeper still and causing his mouth to slip away from her celestial ink.

He moaned, a mixture of surprise and pure pleasure, as his tongue accidentally met his fingers, but he made no move to correct himself. He raised one eyebrow as he caught her smoky stare, let out a low chuckle, and set off devouring her as he moved his fingers faster.

"Oh, my God," she gasped, losing the strength to keep her head up. It fell back to the pillow with a soft plop. She curled her fingers and dug her nails deeper into the thin skin under his hair, dragging them down the back of his neck and up again. She could feel him moaning and growling, vibrations from his humming lips and husky voice bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, then, and crooked his fingers quickly, knowing she was right there and just needed the slightest push to get her to fall. Victory, he thought to himself, feeling her clench, tasting a new flood of wet heat as she pulsed against his tongue. He didn't want to give her a moment's rest, knowing that they could be interrupted any minute and time was fucking precious. He crawled up her body fast, sucking his fingers into his mouth and making the most deliciously dark noises.

She panted as she blinked open her eyes, reeling from the rapid and intense release he had just given her, but as soon as she opened her mouth to say something to him, he slammed his lips over hers and thrust.

Having already aimed and readied, he hit the perfect spot almost instantly as he drove into her, making her quake and clamp for a second time. He let out a muffled curse, feeling her inner walls throb and undulate around his cock, making it difficult to move. With another obscenity, he pulled out and thrust back in, not willing to let it all be over before it had really begun for him. He worked through her second climax, catching every cry of his name, foreign prayer, and melodic moan from her.

"Oh, my God," she groaned, her voice cracking, and her nails scratched down from his neck to his back, clawing away at his skin. She slid her leg higher as he worked himself into her, and he grabbed her knee as soon as it was within reach.

With a low rumble, he began to slow his thrusts but moved deeper, slamming into her and against her harder. His kiss stifled her cries, and the louder she got the more profoundly he kissed her. "Shh," he chuckled as he pulled away to breathe, his heavy breaths falling down against her tender lips. "Fuck," he spat with a whisper-quiet grunt. He moved in rolling patterns, swooping his hips and using every ounce of his strength to piston into her. "Oh, fuck, baby." He chuffed and panted as he moved, and he felt her begin to tighten again, marvelling at how quickly he could bring her that fucking close. "I love you."

She whimpered as she kissed him, her nails snapping into the skin of his shoulder blades. "Elliot," she whispered, "Oh, my God, Elliot." His name rolled off her tongue in elongated syllables, through clenched teeth, fighting it, needing it to last. "Please, baby."

"What?" he kissed her lips softly, twice. "What do you want, honey? What do you need?"

"God, you know what I fucking want," she replied on a harsh and wavering breath. "You always, oh, my God...always know what I need." Her head lolled forward, she caught his lower lip between her teeth, her back curling and her nails gouging crescent moons out of his back.

He bent over, his body making an almost perfect C as he thrust even harder and tightened his grip on her. He grunted with every slam of his hips. "I do," he gritted out. "Give each other what we fucking need, don't we?" He crashed his lips into hers again and hit into her one more time before stilling, shooting, grunting.

She cried his name against his lips, gripping him tightly, her entire body quaking as she came around him, for him, because of him. She tried to get closer, hold him tighter, pull him deeper as they kissed.

"My God," he whispered, kissing her still. He remained in her as he used the last vestiges of strength to flip them over, and he grunted when his head hit the pillow. His chest rose and fell heavily and quickly, her head taking the ride with it. Running his fingers through her hair, he sighed and closed his eyes. He had no idea that sex could be so completely consuming, that it could be felt in every cell and a thousand emotions could hit at once while igniting all senses. "Incredible," he breathed out.

"God, yes," she agreed in a whisper of her own. Sure, sex was always enjoyable, but this, with Elliot, wasn't normal and was, to her, absolutely nothing like anything she had ever experienced. He had managed to make her feel what each part of her body was doing, synapses firing in a million different directions and she was aware of every single one. "I've never…" she stopped and she buried her head in his chest, dropping sweet kisses to his body.

"What?" He panted as he continued toying with her hair, twirling her short waves around in his fingers.

Resting her chin on his chest, she whispered, "With you...I know we're still finding our way, here, but with you, El...every single time…"

"I can feel you cum, ya know," the words flew out in a gust of smoky heat, arousal and pride hanging on them. He winked at her and grinned smugly. "I know."

"More than once," she whispered to him, inching herself up to kiss him. "And it's never enough." She dropped her lips to his, moaning when he took advantage and made a sweet kiss hot and languid. Easy, slow, but deep and powerful as their hands found each other's and fingers interlocked. "There are so many things with you that...that I've never done, never felt…" she kissed his chin. "I've told you things I've never told anyone, never thought I'd ever tell…"

He craned his neck and kissed her to silence her words. When he pulled away, he brushed her hair back and stared deeply into her eyes. He could see every shade of brown and mentally named them all. "Baby," he breathed, "You have to know that goes double for me. With you, there…" he licked his lips and swept his thumbs across the thin skin under her eyes. "There are no walls, no boundaries, no secrets and it's not like I just wanted to unload all my drama on you." He chuckled and kissed the end of her nose. "There was just...instantly, I knew I could trust you, and that I could tell you anything...I had to tell you everything."

"You are…" she felt the words form somewhere between her lungs and her brain and hang on her tongue before she actually let them fly. "You _are_ everything."

He nodded and kissed her slowly again, letting his lips linger for a moment. "You're _my_ everything," he told her. He gently nudged her head back down to his chest, holding her close, knowing she could hear his heartbeat. He could feel hers, too, thumping the same staccato rhythm right against him, through his skin. He could feel the reverb from it low in his belly and up his spine. "I love you," he spoke almost inaudibly, the sting at the back of his nose paining him. "I love you so fucking much."

She pushed herself up, knowing the sound in his soft voice, and she looked down at him worriedly. "What's the matter?"

He shook his head and raised his hands, gripping the sides of her face. "Cross my heart," he began, and then he scraped his teeth over his lower lip. "I will never…" he sucked in a breath, his lip moving almost into his mouth and clicking against his tongue, thinking of how best to say what he needed to tell her. "Like you said, I don't bring my rage home with me, but even at work...I know I can get pretty damn hot under the collar, most of the time we're yelling at each other...I will never treat you like anything less than…" his nostrils flared and the tears he'd kept at bay for the last hour fell unallowed. "The shit he said, the way he talked about a woman he claimed he loved, how he could just…" he shook his head and sniffled. "Never. I never have, I never will."

"Shh," she hushed, pressing a finger to his lips. She replaced her finger with her lips. "I know, El. Baby, I know." She brushed away his dripping tears with her knuckles and said, "Given my history, here, you know if I had any doubt in my mind, if I felt for a single second that you would ever hit me or one of your kids. I wouldn't be with you. Not here, not like this, and I wouldn't have fallen so helplessly, hopelessly in love with you."

He nodded fast, giving a final sniff, and he laughed at his display of emotions. Another thing he never did was let anyone see him cry, and yet he'd done so in front of Olivia, several times for various reasons. He kissed her again, holding her tighter. "Ditto, Kid," he whispered into her ear. He heard her sweet, soft laugh, and kissed the side of her head. Then his eyes rolled, his hips bucked, and he moaned her name. "Fuck, baby, I'm still…"

"I know exactly where you are," she teased, moving her body again, teasing him. She settled against him and sighed softly. She felt something else, something besides the overwhelmingly terrifying love and petrifying need for him. Another thing she'd never felt with anyone else. She felt safe.

Completely, incomprehensibly safe. She's never let her guard down with anyone but the man currently falling asleep beneath her, inside her, with a smile on his face and his hands wound in her hair, and she felt _safe_ doing it for him. She let herself smile, then, and closed her eyes to meet her lover on the other side of sleep.

The alarm buzzed and the couple roused slowly, unsure of what the strange noise was, it had been so long since they were awakened by something other than ringing cell phones. He groaned as he reached out to hit the button on the clock, she sat up a bit and rubbed her eyes, and they both moaned. He was still nestled in her, hard and ready, and her movement had only made him stiffen and hit upward.

"Christ," he hissed, wrapping himself around her. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, thrust slowly, and moaned her name. "What a fucking way to wake up."

She chuckled as she rolled her body in waves over him, taking him in, knowing this would not only be quick but intense.

It hit fast for both of them. Powerful, silent, furious. They came, her first which spurred him, and he held her to him as he mumbled something into her hair.

She kissed him and whispered it back, and then slowly pushed herself off of him with a regretful groan. "Kids," she breathed, trying to compose herself. "Breakfast, school, work…"

"Life," he chuckled, and he got out of the bed, naked and unashamed, swatting her on her bare ass on his way to the bathroom.

She bit her lip as she contemplated, and as she followed him into the shower, she agreed with him. This way life. He was her life.

She'd soon find out, there were people and situations at work just waiting to make her prove it.

 **A/N: Wha…?**


	32. Chapter 32

**A/N:** **Oh, why you look so sad, the tears are in your eyes, come on and come to me now, and don't be ashamed to cry (I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"You know," Elliot said, taking off his coat and tossing it onto his chair, "I have to wonder…" he turned to Olivia and helped her off with her jacket, and he sighed. He leaned closer to her, bent his head, and whispered, "Neither one of us would ever leave one of the girls in a hotel room on their own, even if we were still in the damn hotel."

Olivia brushed her fingers back, pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear, and she folded her arms, her black suit jacket folding over her purple sweater. "What are you getting at?" She tilted her head.

He exhaled as he picked a piece of lint off of her shoulder. "Siobhan was left alone long enough to get attacked, long enough for that bastard to clean himself up, go downstairs, blend into the party, and eat a fucking sandwich."

"So, you're blaming the parents, now?" she narrowed her eyes, but she saw something in his face, an expression that made her trust him. "It's an angle. After we talk to Ramsay we can…"

"Hey," Cassidy walked over to them, interrupting their conversation, and he looked sheepishly at Olivia. "You, uh...I thought you were gonna cut your hair."

Olivia nodded, "Yeah," she said shortly. "Changed my mind." She hid her smirk as she glanced over at Elliot, remembering how he begged her not to cut it, because he loved playing with it, pulling it, holding it in his hands. It didn't matter when, during sex or when they were falling asleep together, whenever he just had the urge to run his fingers through it. She cleared her throat and looked back toward Cassidy. "Did you need something?" Her eyes turned up and she tried to smile at him.

Cassidy let his eyes rove over her body, smirked, and then cleared his throat. "Oh, uh, Cragen wants to see you."

Her eyes shot to Elliot, wide and almost afraid, and she gulped back a worried, anxious cry that had built in the back of her throat. She watched him shrug and bite his lip, and she nodded a thank you to the rookie detective as she strode toward Cragen's office, her heart pounding. If he, somehow, found out about her relationship with Elliot, she was screwed.

She moved toward the open door, rested her hands on the frame, and shifted her weight, trying to appear rational and collected. "Cap, we just found our guy on the Miller case. Can this wait?"

"Close the door," Cragen said to her, pointing and wagging a finger at her.

Her brain froze, her heart stopped. "What?" she almost whispered, one trembling hand shoving the door closed as she walked further into the office. "What's this about?" Her eyes took a quick lap around the small room, narrowing slightly as she spotted a uniformed officer rising from a seat in the corner.

"Sit down, Olivia," Cragen spoke, taking one step closer to her. His pulse raced as he ran his hands down the sides of his light brown suit jacket. He hated this part of his job.

Unable to blink or breath, Olivia remained standing. "What?" she asked, more insistent. She had known the risks of sleeping with her partner, knew falling in love wasn't in the job description. She had prepared for some sort of consequence, but the cop to her right had her nerves playing tennis.

Cragen took another step toward her, softened his expression, and tried to hold back his own emotions as he clearly read the ones that were etched on her face. "Really, I think you should sit down."

Olivia shoved her shaking hands into her pockets, but she saw the deep concern in Cragen's eyes. This wasn't about her and Elliot, this wasn't about work at all. She shrugged her shoulders a bit and spoke. "Just tell me. What's going on?"

After a deep breath, Cragen had to look away. He couldn't bear to see her face when he said what had been so awfully given to him to say. "Your mother had an accident." He glanced up at her, instantly regretting it, seeing shock and fear staring back at him. "I am so sorry," he whispered, never wanting to hug her more than at this moment. "She didn't make it."

The fear subsided. The anxiety fell away. Anger, regret, guilt, and pain ping-ponged at her, one at a time, followed by something resembling relief. Tears filled the wells of her eyes, her voice became nothing more than a wispy croak. She gave him one word. "How?"

This was where Cragen lost himself. He couldn't do this. Not like this. He cleared his throat and nodded once at her as he said, "She fell...um, down the subway steps," his shifty eyes landed on her again and he rattled off an address he hoped sounded legit. "110th and Broadway."

Olivia shook her head fast, his word landing like a lead balloon. She didn't realize her tears were now falling, her lip trembling. "No," she said, raising her red eyes to look at him. "My mother never takes the subway."

Cragen knew what her eyes were asking; even though he hadn't been her captain long, he could read her well, like a daughter. He planted his feet firmly, stabilizing himself, and he looked up, asking whatever higher power there was to give him the strength to tell her. He licked his lips and stared straight at her, honesty falling from his lips. "The entrance outside the Velvet Room."

A small gasp escaped her as she straightened up and stiffened a bit. Realization struck her hard, She was drunk." She watched as Cragen's sad eyes closed, his brows rose, and he pressed his lips together as he nodded remorsefully. She swallowed hard again, this time feeling a hot tear roll down her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," Cragen cracked, leaning in and pulling her into a warm hug.

There was a soft knock on the door, just before it opened without permission, and Elliot's voice called into the office. "Okay, what's taking so long in…" he stopped, taking in the sight before him. He saw Cragen turn his head to him, shaking it slightly, and he read his captain's lips as he mouthed, "Her mother." He moved away from the door and he ran to Olivia fast. He gently pulled her away from Cragen and as soon as he looked into her eyes, at her face, he knew. "Oh," he breathed, feeling his heart break. "Oh, honey," he whispered.

She fell into him, her head into his chest, not sobbing, not shaking, just silently weeping for the mother she had lost, without ever really having. Years of abuse and torment overshadowed short bursts of tenderness and bonding; months of fighting drowned out memories of lullabies and bedtime stories, and as one hand looped around Elliot's waist, the other slid down to her stomach as she cried just a bit harder for the children she hoped to one day have, because they lost their only maternal relative. Relief hit again, and she whispered, so softly into Elliot's chest, "It's over."

Elliot nodded. "Yeah, Kid," he breathed. "It's all over." He rested his chin on top of her head, his hands running smooth circles over her back, and he looked toward his captain. "Can we?" he mouthed, the fire behind his nose and eyes igniting.

Cragen's eyes closed again, pain ripping away the layers of _captain_ until all that remained was _family_ and he nodded. He watched as Elliot pulled himself back, wrapped three fingers around Olivia's chin, and nudged her head up so she would look at him. The left corners of his lips twitched, making him smile slightly at the display, and he put his hands in his pockets and leaned back against his desk.

Elliot held her chin still for a moment, bringing his free hand up to her face. He swiped away a few of her tears even though he knew, now, a few of his own were threatening to fall. "I'll take you," he told her. Moving his hands to fully cup her face, he shook his head lightly. "I'm right here, Kid. I got you." And then he pulled her back to him, closer than before, tighter than before, and he closed his eyes as he felt her shake just a bit harder.

Cragen took another deep breath, then gestured at the officer to escort them out, to take them where they needed to go, and he pretended he didn't see the soft, discreet kiss Elliot planted on Olivia's lips as soon as they made their way through the door.

"Benson," Jeffries called, seeing them emerge from the office. "You had us wondering if…" she noticed her red eyes, the slumped posture, and the way she wouldn't let go of Elliot. "What happened?" She rose out of her chair, moved quickly to Olivia's side, and rested a hand on her arm. "Are you in some kind of trouble?" Her eyes shot up to Elliot's.

"No," Elliot answered softly with a light sniff. "We just...we have to go." He grabbed his coat and hers, knowing the keys to his car were still in her pocket. He shielded Olivia from anyone else's worried gaze or probing questions, and moved with her to follow the cop out of the squadroom.

After taking Olivia down to identify and claim her mother's body, Elliot convinced her to take the rest of the day off and had the uniformed officer take them back to the station only to pick up his car. He got her settled, but as he got into the driver's seat, he realized she hadn't shed a single tear since they'd left Cragen's office. She had been calm, reserved, and he knew she had reverted into detective mode, treating it like just another case and distancing herself from the fact that it was her mother at all. "Baby," he whispered, reaching over the console and taking her hand. "You don't have to do this."

"Well, there's no one else," she said to him, squeezing his hand. "So, uh, I need to go the bank, I need to call her lawyer...I'm all she had, she was all I had…" and she stopped herself, her head slowly swiveled toward him, her eyes melting into his. "Until you," she heard the cry in her voice as she admitted out loud that her mother's death hadn't left her alone at all, which had been the thought plaguing her since Cragen gave her the news. She laughed at herself, then, her unheld hand moving to wipe away a few fresh tears. "So, who else if gonna do it, right?"

"Honey, no, I mean," he shifted closer and rested his other hand on her cheek, caressing her softly with his thumb. "You don't have to put up walls and go stone cold, okay? Not with me, I'm not…"

Before he had even finished, she shook her head. "I'm not, you know I'm not," she sniffled away the last of her tears. "I wouldn't shut down like that, not with you. I had a very rocky, unstable relationship with her, you know that," she brought her right hand up to cup over his, brushing his knuckles. "I promise, I am not holding anything back for anyone's sake, I just…" she shrugged. "You told me that when your father died, you couldn't cry, you didn't feel like it was the greatest loss of your life. That's...that's what I'm feeling. I love my mother. I...loved her, but there were moments where it didn't seem like…" she inhaled shakily and breathed out slowly, knowing if she voiced that particular thought, she'd cry again. "I'm caught between being heartbroken and being so fucking relieved that it's all...finally over."

"Oh," he exhaled, understanding, and he moved forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. "My angel," he breathed against her soft skin as his eyes closed. He kissed his way down the bridge of her nose, kissed the corners of her lips and her chin, and then looked into her dry eyes for a moment before capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss. His hands did, in fact, move up and into her hair. He wriggled them and twisted her waves between his fingers, clutching and gripping and tugging lightly. "I love you," he whispered, his hot breath landing on her lips as he turned his head to kiss her at a new angle.

Her fingers curled around his tie, the one that almost perfectly matched her sweater, and she pulled him as close as she could get him with the car's gear shift in the way. She eased back and nuzzled her head against his for a few brief, quiet seconds. Her breath hitched, and the last thing she remembered her mother saying to her rang in her ears. The conversation came during the last moments of a late night phone call, Serena had heard Elliot calling to Olivia in the background and what he'd said spurred Serena into a fit of soft, loving laughter, and then she said something, a long tirade of sorts, that now burned in Olivia's ears.

" _I'm so proud of you, Olivia. Proud of the woman you've become, proud of the life and family you've built for yourself, and proud that you found someone who loves you with his entire heart. I can see it, sweetie. Don't make my mistakes; don't shut him out because of the past, or because you're afraid of what's to come. You love him, too, don't you? I can tell. Don't be afraid of it, because fear...is all I have known for so long, and it's why I am...the way I am. I want better for you, sweetheart. Trust me, and trust him, and trust his love."_

"What?" Elliot asked, backing away to look down at her as she unwound herself from him. "Honey, what…?"

"I love you, too," she said, a firm statement. She took a deep but tremulous breath, and she leaned back in her seat. "Can we...can we just go...home?"

He smiled, bent his head to kiss her softly, and nodded. "Yeah, baby," he said. "Let's go home."

 **A/N: How much does Cragen truly know? Cleaning out Serena's apartment brings Elliot into the last dark corners of Olivia's life, and a conversation between friends causes a bit of heat between lovers. Only if this story is still being read…?**


	33. Chapter 33

**A/N:** **Let me see you through, 'cause I've seen the dark side too. (I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

It was the fourth time in less than an hour Cragen had texted Elliot, the same question: _How's she holding up?_ It's the third time the message went unanswered. If he replied, he'd either have to tell the truth, proving to Cragen she was with him long after hours, or lie and risk Cragen yelling at him for leaving her alone in her time of need.

When the phone bleeped again, Elliot dragged a hand down his face, exhaled slowly, and typed back. _She's asleep. On my couch. Didn't want to leave her alone._ Half true: she was asleep, she was on his couch but the couch was technically _hers,_ too, and he never wanted to leave her alone. Half lie: He was on the couch with her; she was laying on top of him with her head on his chest and her arms wound so tightly around him he couldn't move if he wanted to.

He didn't want to.

Cragen sent another message, _Good,_ and Elliot raised a brow before gently reaching over to put his phone on the coffee table. He had just settled back against the cushions when she stirred on him. He heard her softly whimper, and he ran his fingers through the hair he begged her not to cut as he tried to soothe her back to sleep.

"El," she mumbled, her closed eyes trying to look for him, her head inching its way to an upright position. "Elliot?"

"I'm right here, Kid," he whispered, arcing over to kiss her forehead. "What's the matter, baby?"

She shook her head as she pushed herself up, her hands pressing into his firm, strong chest for leverage. Once she sat up, she rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes and sighed. "What time is it?"

"A little after twelve," he told her, swiveling his legs and shooting up to sit beside her, taking her hands. "You hungry?"

Shaking her head, she finally opened her raw eyes. "No, I just…" she breathed out again. "Would you...I mean we should go…" she stopped and licked her lips, trying to ask the question that would make everything seem real and send her into another see-saw ride of emotion. She covered her mouth with a limp hand and yawned, and then finally said, "If we go now, we should be back before the kids come home from school."

He ran his palm up and down her back slowly. "Go where, honey?" His voice was soft, tender, sweet.

Something in the way he spoke gave her pause, and she turned to kiss him. Slowly, deeply, without a sound. She pulled back and rested her head against his. "My mother's...her apartment."

He dragged his teeth over his lip, knowing that it needed to get done, there were documents in that apartment the lawyer needed right away, but his entire body stung at the thought of watching her go through it all. He did the only thing he could do: he nodded and clutched her hand, pulling her up and kissing her again. "I'll take you."

He grabbed their coats off of the hook by the door, made sure the alarm was set and house locked up tight, and without any words between them, they walked to the larger truck they never drove to work. They got in, silently, and the drive to Serena's place was just as noiseless. Comfortable, but quiet. Halfway there, Olivia wondered how Elliot could be driving so well with only his left hand, because the fingers of his right were tangled between both of hers, in her lap. She smiled as she stared down at their sandwiched skin, and her eyes traveled along his arm and up his shoulder, the length of his neck, to his face. She loved him with everything she had; now, he _was_ everything she had.

She noticed something cross his face, worry or a flash of pain, and she didn't understand why until she turned her head. Looking out the window, she exhaled harshly, the car pulling up to the apartment that now looked so, so small.

"We don't have to do this today, Kid," his cool, low voice assured her, giving her a way out.

She pressed her mouth shut tightly, rubbing her lips together as she lay a hand on the door handle. "Yeah," she croaked out, "We do." She opened her door, staring at the building as though it would burst into flames at any moment. It slammed behind her once she was out and standing, and she took the first excruciating steps toward the door that held so many secrets behind it.

Elliot jogged to catch up, grabbing her hand once he did, and he took the keys from her shaking fingers. "I got it," he whispered to her, and he unlocked the front and glass doors, bringing them into the first-floor apartment of Serena Benson. He looked around, feeling like he'd been allowed inside some sacred space, and he smiled. It reminded him in many ways of the house his mother lived in, a state away. Patterned furniture covered in plastic, collectible plates hanging on the walls, and a stack of unread books on a dusty shelf. He looked over to ask Olivia a question, and his smile disappeared.

Her perception of the apartment was obviously different. The almost resolute flat line in her lips gave away her feelings. She let out a breath and relaxed her shoulders, as someone would before resigning to perform a task unwillingly. She stepped along the plush pink carpet to the plastic-ensconced couch and dropped to her knees. She hunched over and stuck a hand under the sofa, closing her eyes as her fingers wrapped around something she had hoped wouldn't be there. She pulled a thin bottle of bourbon out from under the couch, and with a firm nod, she set it on the ivory-colored coffee table.

"Liv," Elliot whispered, in almost as much pain as he imagined she was, and he took a step toward her, but she moved too quickly. He watched as she hopped up onto that carved coffee table, reached up into the open glass bulbs of the light fixture, and pulled two more bottles from its hold. He read the labels clearly. Vodka and gin, each half empty. "Honey, what are you…"

She ignored him as she set the bottles in her hands down on the table beside the bourbon, moving then toward the dusty shelf Elliot had thought was so charming. She slid the books to the side, let out a bitterly victorious grunt, and wrapped her fingers around the hotel-bar sized bottles of whiskey. She dropped them onto the coffee table, and then, knowing he'd follow, led Elliot into the kitchen. "Ya know," she said loudly for him to hear, "Some people look for a kitchen like this because they love to cook," she knelt down in front of a walnut cabinet. She opened it, shook her head, and said, "My mother wanted it...for storage." She pulled a large pot and small pan out of the cabinet.

"People always keep pots and pans…" he was silenced by Olivia's next move. One by one, she took a bottle of vermouth, another bottle of vodka, and then four kinds of wine out of the cabinet. He watched her raise one finger and look around a bit, and then, from the pot she pulled a short, round bottle of brandy. "Oh, honey," his heart cracked as his voice did the same.

Olivia exhaled, keeping her composure, and slid over to the vintage oven. She opened the door and closed her eyes, shame and memories combining, and she wrapped her fingers around the neck of a bottle of rum. She flipped it like a skilled bartender, catching it and dropping it down beside the rest. "Under the sink," she said, turning her head toward Elliot.

He didn't hesitate, he moved and bent low, pulling the cabinet doors open. "Uh," he said, tilting his head. He was met with standard cleaning and housekeeping supplies. Nothing that wouldn't be under the sink in his own kitchen.

She scoffed. "Move the bucket, behind the Drano," she said to him, the bitterness evident in her voice.

He did as she had told him, sliding the red bucket out of the way and moving two full bottles of clog fighter, and he closed his eyes. "Damn it, Serena," he hissed under his breath, and he grabbed the four near-empty bottles of alcohol. A small, short chuckle came from behind him and he turned, confused.

"Every room in the place is like this," she said, looking around. "I thought...I thought about doing this myself, so you wouldn't…" she swallowed and bit her lip as she tried to keep from crying. She wasn't ready to cry just yet. "Ya know, like I owed to her to keep her secret, even in death." She dropped beside him and took the cognac and port out of his hands, sliding them away. "But you...you and me, we don't have secrets, do we?"

He shook his head, a very small smile playing at his lips, and he whispered, "Hell no."

A more genuine laugh escaped her, and she nodded as she said, "The bedroom, in the bookcase, in the lampshade, in the bottom drawer of her dresser. In the closet. God, the closet is...that's where the top shelf shit is," she tried to laugh again but there came the cry. "The bathroom, the medicine cabinet and behind the towels, she just…"

"Baby," he breathed, and he pulled her into his arms. "I know, honey. I know." He let her fall apart on his shoulder, against his chest, and once he felt her shaking stop and her sobs had gone quiet, he used the tip of his nose to nudge her head up and he pressed his lips to hers, so softly. He looked into her eyes, asking a silent question, and she nodded back at him. "I know what you're thinking," he said to her, pulling them both to their feet. "And you're wrong."

"Is this another one of your Doctor Freud moments?" she joked, picking up the collection of bottles and bringing them back into the living room.

He laughed as he followed her, helping her set the liquor down on the coffee table. "Maybe," he said with a wink. "Listen, Kid, I have been here, right here, you know I have. It took me a long...long time to realize...these bottles, this fucking shit...it didn't mean more to her," he brushed the hair out of her eyes. "It was never more important than you. This was just how she coped, how she got through her days because she had a problem." He ran his tongue around his teeth as he looked around the apartment, and he grinned. "If she's as much like my father as I think," he started, and he pulled her over to the shelving unit that housed the television. "See?"

Olivia squinted, almost in disbelief, as she took in the sight before her. Pictures of her from moments she'd always assumed her mother was too drunk to remember were housed in beautiful frames, decorating every shelf.

"What, uh," he pulled a silver frame off of the shelf in front of him, a broad smile now on his face. "What was this?" he asked, tilting the photo toward Olivia.

She smiled warmly, taking the photo from him. "A debate competition," she said. "I was the only girl on my school's team, and this...this was the first time my school won," she looked up at him and shrugged. "I won."

"Of course you did," he said quite firmly. "No one argues like you, and you, my love, are always right." He laughed as he kissed her lips. "She was proud of you." He set the frame back in place and pointed to a few more recent pictures. Then he set his hand on a solid oak frame housing a series of Olivia's graduation photos: high school, college, and the police academy. "Baby, she was so fucking proud of you."

She sighed and smiled, and then looked up at the ceiling. "Would've been nice if she…" and then she remembered, again, that last perfect conversation. "Yeah, I...I guess she was."

Elliot looked around again, thinking, and then he pulled her along toward the small, beautiful piano in the corner. "You play?" he asked her, running his hand along the edge of the instrument.

Olivia nodded. "My mother, uh, taught piano lessons. I was her first student. Or test subject," she said with a chuckle. "I was...really bad, for a while, but one day, I just...got it." She shrugged. "Maybe I'll play for you sometime."

"Oh, ya know, I'm holding you to that," he teased. He then moved his hands, and he kept his eyes on hers as he lifted the seat, revealing a small storage space. He pushed aside old, yellowed sheet music, and he gave a short laugh as if to say, " _I knew it."_ He held up a bunch of cards and folded papers, and very slowly, he handed them to her.

She knew what they were before she took them, and this time the tears fell slowly and silently, not intruding on her speech or composure. "She kept…" she flipped the cards over and open and she laughed at how badly a four-year-old version of herself misspelled her own name. "Every single card I ever gave her…" she mumbled, swiping through decades of birthday, mother's day, and Valentine cards. "How did you know they would…"

"My father," Elliot interrupted and shrugged. "He hid all of the ones from us in the boxcar chair he sat in when he played poker with his buddies. Our parents were so much alike, I guess I just sort of...knew." He brushed the pad of his thumb under her right eye. "In spite of everything, Kid, she loved you, so very much." He closed his eyes and slowly let out a breath. "She just had a really hard time showing it, most days." He opened his eyes, revealing they were now red and strained, his attempt to keep from crying himself. "There were days she let the fear and regret and pain fester, and her only option was to drink it away and then take it all out on you, but there were moments...wonderful moments where she was...your mother, and you have those moments to hold onto, always."

She brought her hands up to his cheeks, searching his eyes for the truth behind his words, and she gained affirmation that his childhood was more like hers than she'd ever given it credit for, which only made her fall in love with him all over again, right now. She pulled him to her and kissed him, slid her hands from his face to his arms and then around his back, and she whispered, "I love you," against his lips.

He pulled away, sniffling now, nodding, and said, "God, I love you, too, Kid. So damn much." He kissed her once, quickly, and then took a deep breath, shaking away his own sadness, and he asked, "So, uh, you...you start boxing things up in here, and, um...I'll go find the rest of…" he simply pointed to the crowded coffee table that looked more like a liquor store now. She smiled and nodded at him, and then slowly began to unfold one of the boxes Elliot had bought for this. She started with books and pictures, then moved to the locked desk.

In it, she found the will, insurance documents, a file of tax returns and medical records, and as she moved to pile them into another box, something slipped free and floated to the carpeted floor like a falling feather. She furrowed her brow as she bent over to pick it up, and just as Elliot emerged from the bathroom with a box full of brand new bottles of wine and whiskey, she unfolded the slip of torn, aged paper.

Elliot, curious, set the box down and moved toward her, behind her, and he wrapped her in his arms as he looked over her shoulder. "What is that?"

She shrugged and looked over her shoulder at him. "An address," she said. "My mother's handwriting, but it...it doesn't look familiar." She pointed to the box. "It was with all of the important stuff so it must mean...something...ya think?"

"I'll take it to work with me tomorrow," he said to her, and he kissed the back of her head. "Run it through the system for you."

She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, you," she spat, "You planning on going without me?" There was a teasing quality to her voice, a smile on her face.

"Uh, yeah," he said, confused. "Cragen told you to take…"

"El," she said, kissing him, "I'm good, okay? Let's...let's get the rest of this stuff packed up, make a list of the furniture so, uh, we can probably sell it, right?" She ran a hand through her hair. "I need to call her landlord, go over some things with the funeral home, John's brother is helping us out with that. We, uh, we can have everything settled by Wednesday and the funeral should…"

"Slow down, honey," he interrupted, his hands shooting to her shoulders. "Breathe, baby. You don't have to…"

"El," she repeated, more firmly, as she looked into his eyes. "I told you...I'm fine," she kissed him softly and moved, packing up another box, leaving Elliot to decide if she was really fine, or if she just didn't realize how _not fine_ she truly was.

 **A/N: Next...Cragen's worry grows! And a conversation between friends causes a bit of heat between lovers. Leave a review, if you're so inclined…?**


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: When the light falls on you, and you don't know what to do, nothing you confess could make me love you less. (I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"Benson," Cassidy sat up straight and dropped his feet from his desk to the floor. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah," Jeffries said, standing. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her black pants. "Cragen told you to take some time off so you could…"

"I took it," Olivia interrupted with a shrug, walking in her black heels toward Elliot's small locker at the side of the room. She opened it and grabbed one of his tee shirts, then swung open the door to her own to grab a pair of jeans. "I'll be right back," she said to whomever was listening.

Every pair of eyes in the room followed her black dress up the stairs. Once she closed the door to the cribs behind her, Elliot turned. "Don't," he cautioned the rest of his unit. He ran a hand down his face and across his chin. "I tried to take her home, she...she said she just needed to be here." He bit his lip and then looked at each of colleagues.

"Today wasn't the funeral, was it?" Munch asked. "We would've…"

"No, no," Elliot reassured as he raised an arm, gesturing toward the staircase. "The college her mother used to teach at, uh, had a memorial breakfast for her, that's why she was so...dressed up." He shook his head and scoffed. "No one in that room even knew...anything about Serena's problem…they knew next to nothing about Liv." He brought one hand up to squeeze the bridge of his nose, he inhaled deeply and let it through his mouth, recalling the saccharin animosity he was met with at the memorial.

People had asked pointed questions, passive-aggressive accusations of leaving Serena out of their lives, ponderments of why Olivia had never visited or brought the kids to see their grandmother. He'd been so adamant, refusing to let Olivia correct them. He'd also heard her say something he knew she'd only half-meant, but it hadn't made him love her any less. It had only made him fall a little harder, a lot more.

He sniffled again, snapping himself back to the present moment, and he said, "None of them

knew the truth."

"Hey, man," Munch said kindly, dropping a hand to Elliot's shoulder. "They wouldn't, now, would they?"

With a light chuckle, Elliot shook his head.

"Did she finish making the arrangements?" Jeffries asked. "Does she need any help?"

"We took care of everything this morning," Elliot said. "It was actually already planned, laid out in Serena's will and in some kind of deal with her lawyer." He scratched one finger against a spot on the back of his left ear. "We, uh, we had an interesting conversation with that asshole, lemme tell ya."

Munch patted him on the back and said, "Blood money," knowing what Elliot meant.

Elliot bubbled his lips as he exhaled. "And shit, Liv, man. Seeing her so...she'll never admit it but this is killing her, and she's just ignoring it." He shook his head again, looking down at his feet. "Wake is tomorrow, uh, the morning viewing is eight to twelve and then, um, five to eight for the evening one. I know she'd appreciate it if you guys could…"

"Of course," Jeffries cut in with a small, sympathetic smile.

"Funeral is Thursday so," Elliot cleared his throat. "I need to convince Cragen to…"

"I don't need convincing," Cragen said from behind Elliot. "We're all gonna be there. The rest of the guys in this squad can handle things without the six of us for a while."

Turning with a small smile, Elliot nodded. "Thank you. It would...it would mean a lot to her if you all were there." He nodded again and pressed his lips together. "To me, too." He blinked rapidly. "Ya know, for...for her." He jutted a thumb toward the stairs.

Cragen nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets as he took a few steps closer. He lowered his voice and turned his back to the others. "Between you and me," he intoned, "How is she? Does she need counseling? Do you think she needs to see Huang?"

Elliot narrowed his eyes and shook his head fast. "No, no, she's not...she's not losing it, she's just not...letting herself feel it." He took a slow breath. "You know she's...got a pretty huge wall around her."

Cragen raised one eyebrow. "You've got your own entrance, Stabler, be straight with me. Is she okay?"

Trying to figure out what Cragen meant, Elliot licked his lips. "She's okay," he said firmly.

"Okay," Cragen said, and then he crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "I didn't want to bring this up, with everything going on, but Tucker called. You two signed up for the Sergeant's exam?"

Elliot made a guilty face as he nodded. "Tucker kind of twisted our arms," he said honestly. "Ya know, when IAB wants you to do something, you do it."

"I'm confused as shit, I didn't think either of you were on his list of gold stars, but I signed off on it," Cragen told him. "It's just...one more thing she has to worry about."

"She's not worried about it," Elliot chuckled. He folded his arms and leaned back against his desk.

Cragen ribbed his forehead a bit and then asked, "Did she decide what she's doing with her mother's apartment? Is the landlord…"

"Death," Elliot said with a narrow-eyed perplexity, "Kinda breaks a lease, Cap. We're cleaning it out, selling what we don't want or need, and in six weeks someone with a pulse is moving in, why are you…"

"And the house upstate, is she selling that? I know a great real estate attorney who could…"

"Hey, Jefe, what is with you?" Elliot tilted his head. "Serena sold that house six years ago, how did...I didn't even know about that place until this morning, so how the hell did you…" and then it hit him. "You pulled her records."

Cragen coughed but he didn't deny anything. "I'm just looking out for her. If she needs anything, you tell her that...I'm here." He nodded once. "You don't have to go through this alone with her."

Squinting again, Elliot straightened up. "Just what, exactly, do you think is…"

"Okay," Olivia's cool voice called, directed at Elliot. "What'd we get nailed with today?"

Cragen smiled warmly with a sadness in his yes as he watched Olivia place her carefully folded dress and heels in her locker. "Nothing," he said with a slow shake of his head.

She shot her head toward her captain as she pulled a pair of sneakers and some rolled up socks out of the metal cubby. "Seriously?"

"I didn't put the two of you in the rotation," Cragen hiked up his shoulders and tilted his head. "Didn't think you'd be here, to be honest."

"Well, we are," she said. She pushed up the sleeves of Elliot's long-sleeved shirt as she walked over and plopped in her chair to pull on her socks and shoes. "We get anywhere new with Ramsay? What did he say when Munch int…"

"Are you sure you're up for this?" Jeffries moved fast, practically sitting on Olivia's desk, both hands draped over Olivia's shoulders.

"I'm fine," Olivia said with a stunned smile. "Can you all just please let me do my job?" She brushed Jeffries away and looked over at Munch. "What did the son of a bitch say?"

Munch sent a cautionary glance at Cragen, who nodded at him, and then he lifted a file off of his desk and handed it to Olivia. "You, uh, you're not gonna believe any of it."

Olivia furrowed her brow and flipped open the folder, scanning quickly, and her head snapped up, eyes trained on Elliot. "You were right," she said, gesturing for him to move closer to her.

He did so quickly, leaned in and read over her shoulder, and then they shared an intense look. He cleared his throat, stifling the desire to kiss her, and turned toward Munch. "Where are you on this?" He looked over at Cragen. "What happens now?"

"We got something in the works," Cragen said, finally unfurling his arms. "You two don't need to worry about it. We got it covered." He moved over and slid around a few files on Monique's desk. "Uh," he cleared his throat. "I just need you two to be on standby, because if this goes right, you'll be arresting the right person." He handed Olivia a thin folder and recrossed his arms.

Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but caught sight of someone behind Cragen and shot to her feet. "Honey," she cried, running over to the girl.

"Katie," Elliot shouted as he sprinted with her. "God, are you all right?"

"What happened?" She looked up at the uniformed officer holding the child's hand. "What the hell…"

"Sweetie, what's the matter?" Elliot spat as he scooped us his daughter.

"I'm fine," Kathleen said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. But she hugged her father eagerly.

Olivia brushed the blonde child's hair back. "What happened?" she asked again, looking at the man in uniform.

"Absolutely nothing, Detective," the young cop said. He cleared his throat. "Well, nothing serious. Her class was on a field trip, they were at the courthouse. I was one of the guys on security detail, and, uh, there was a bit of a scare."

"Go on," Elliot said, cradling his daughter between himself and Olivia, oblivious to the other people who were now staring at them.

The cop cleared his throat again and took off his hat. "One of the subjects of an ongoing trial, Detective...he was causing a bit of a disturbance. We moved all of the second graders into a nearby meeting room to keep them safe, contacted all of the parents, but when she told me who her parents were and where they worked, well, I personally escorted her down here, Sir."

"Thank you, um," Olivia read the man's bronze name tag, "Sanders." She smiled and shook the cop's hand, and then watched him leave. She turned back to Katie, twirling her blonde hair around her fingers. "Are you okay, sweetheart?"

Katie nodded again, and she held her arms out toward Olivia, straining her tiny body to move from her father's hold. "Just tired. That policeman made me walk the whole way."

Laughing, Olivia lifted her into her arms and sighed contentedly when Katie's head hit her shoulder. "I'm gonna take her upstairs," she told Elliot.

He smiled at her, and then moved in, but suddenly caught himself before reaching her lips. He bent his head and kissed Katie's cheek. He watched Olivia move and that's when he noticed the odd expressions on the faces of his colleagues and captain. "Oh, um…"

"That was…" Jeffries began, with an unfamiliar feeling and unreadable expression. "She's so…" she licked her lips and smiled. "Maternal."

Cragen tried to hide his own grin as he sighed and cleared his throat. He tried to ignore the plaguing thoughts and nagging feelings and was thankful for the ringing phone that interrupted his quiet pensiveness. He reached out a hand to grab it before anyone else could, mumbled a quick acceptance as he scrawled something on a sticky note, then hung up. He exhales again and turned to look at Elliot. "When she gets back down here," he said, "You got a DB behind a dumpster in Chelsea."

Elliot took the note from Cragen, knowing he was only giving them the case to keep Olivia occupied. "Thanks." He looked toward the stairs in time to see her coming down them, and he waved the sticky note at her. "We're off the bench," he shouted to her.

"Thank God," she huffed, and she grabbed her jacket and ripped the Post-It away from Elliot, heading out the door.

Elliot shrugged as he followed her, picking up his coat and keys on the way.

Cragen watched them go, but shook his head in silent protest against the feelings rising again that, this time, he couldn't ignore. He headed into his office and closed the door, contemplating his next move and hoping he wasn't making it too late.

 **A/N: What's up with Cragen? And that heat...is coming! Leave a review, if you're so inclined…?**


	35. Chapter 35

**A/N:** **So if you're mad, get mad, don't hold it all inside, come on and talk to me now. (I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

Seeing her like this was physically painful for him; he stood in the kitchen doorway and watched her pour a second glass of the rum they'd taken from her mother's place. He'd spent the morning on the sidelines, letting her throw herself into her work, take charge of the case to keep her mind occupied. He'd spent the afternoon and most of the evening biting his tongue as she lied to everyone who asked, telling them she was fine when obviously she was not. When they got home and changed out of the suits that smelled like the city, they'd started to go through boxes and she'd started to shut down. He'd nodded when she'd reached for the bottle, hell, he'd poured for her because one drink wouldn't hurt. This is where he began to draw the line, though, and he moved fast, grabbing her wrist before she could bring that second glass to her lips.

She shot him a hard look, narrow-eyed and flat-lipped, but she sighed and let him take the liquor out of her hand. She weakly slung an arm around him, her free hand balling into a fist and pressing into her chest, she rolled it as if kneading the pain away.

It was then the weakest sound he'd ever heard hit his ears, he felt her tremble as she took shallow breaths and shrunk against him. "Baby," he whispered, his eyes closing as he ensconced her completely. His eyes slid slowly shut and he sighed as he felt the full weight of her despair. "Honey, I know what you're going through, and I'm so sorry. I'm right here, honey. I'm here."

"I know you are!" she snapped, pushing away from him. "You're here! You're right fucking here, but she...she's not! She's not here because she couldn't fucking put the goddamn bottle down!" She tore her hands through her hair as her nostrils flared, her fists clenching and unclenching as she paced in front of the couch. "Because of me!"

"What?" He squinted as he tried to grab for her again, but she moved again.

She shook her head and sniffled hard. "I'm the one with the fucking death wish, I'm the one with the job that could kill me, I take that risk every fucking day!" She wasn't even aware of the hot tears streaming down her face. "I've been shot! I've been stabbed, beaten, I've been in buildings when they were blown to bits and I'm still fucking here! She...she just...she fell down the steps…" Her words fell into a hard cry, her hand flew over her mouth and she shook with fiery sobs for a moment.

"Oh, honey," he whispered, moving closer.

"Ya know, she didn't have to put herself through any of it," she said on a strangled cry. "She kept me! She didn't have to...she shouldn't have…" she gave another hard inhale, blinking, and she wiped away a few tears with the back of her hand. "I always thought...believed that because of what happened to her, what I came from, that no one would ever be able to overlook my past, that no matter what I did people would always see a monster, because...because that's all she saw."

"Baby, no," he negated, shaking his head, and he positioned his body in front of the couch, stopping her from pacing anymore. "You are not a monster, you're…"

She let out a bitter laugh, which spurred on more tears. "I felt guilty, so fucking guilty for being alive, for being the constant reminder of the worst moment of her life, and maybe…" she ground her thumb and forefinger into the sides of her nose, trying to control her breathing. She looked up at him and shook her head. "Maybe that's why I could never make any other relationship last, maybe I was sabotaging them because...because it's what I deserved, and, shit, forget kids! I can't...I shouldn't be anybody's mother with the genes I have! I'll end up like her!"

"Liv," he tried not to be loud, he had to make her understand, "Listen to me, none of that is true! You know it's not." He blinked and she was on the other side of the room, her fists balled again.

"Yeah," she scoffed. "God, she's gone and she's still making me feel like…" she stopped, then, and she whipped her head around to glare at Elliot. "Fuck her," she spat, rage overwhelming her grief again. "Fuck her for everything she did to me because of who...what I am," she swiped in aggravation at her falling tears, resenting them. "Fuck her for not getting the help she needed, for not letting me love her the way...God, the way I wanted to, and fuck her for leaving me...alone," and that was it. Her knees buckled, her cries grew into full maturity, and she keeled over, losing grip.

He moved fast, catching her as she crumpled, and eased them both backward and into the seat of the sofa. He cradled her as she shook, her harsh sobs erupting like a volcano that had been dormant for far too long. He said nothing, he didn't shush her or whisper sweet words of comfort, he simply rocked her and brushed her hair back.

She felt him wrap her tighter in his arms, felt his head drop to hers, and she heard the softly whispered words he offered her. She sniffled and curled her tight fists, coiling his shirt in her grip. His voice, quiet though it was, was rich with understanding and devotion, and she lifted her head to look at him.

He peered down into her reddened eyes, his lips curved in the barest of smiles, and he nodded once at her as a few of his own tears rolled down his cheeks. "I was wondering when you were gonna break," he said to her, and then he moved closer, bridging the gap between them and kissing her lightly.

She unfurled her right hand and brought it up to cup his face, swiping away his tears with her thumb, and she shook her head and swallowed hard. "Why are you..."

"Because you are," he shrugged.

Olivia sniffled softly again and brushed her hand against his cheek again. "I'm so…"

He kissed her to stop her unwarranted apology. With a soft sniffle, he dropped his forehead to hers and said, "Been holding that in for a while, huh?"

Her laugh came out along with a final sob as she nodded, her head and nose brushing against his.

He swiped his lips along hers lightly, and he nuzzled her nose again. "It's okay to be mad, it's okay to feel hurt and pissed off and guilty and upset...honey, your feelings are absolutely normal. You don't have to hide them, or pretend not to feel them."

She nodded again, moving her arms around his neck. "I thought if I didn't think about it, then I wouldn't…"

"Daddy?" Maureen's voice broke into Olivia's words. "Is everything okay? I heard...yelling." She tilted her head and waited. "Are you fighting with Liv the way you...the way you used to fight with…"

"No, honey," Elliot said fast, "No, I promise that'll never happen."

Maureen nodded and then looked at Olivia. "Are you okay?"

Olivia smiled as she moved off of Elliot's lap. "Everything's fine, pumpkin," she sniffled, wiping the last of her tears. "I didn't mean to wake you up, honey." She looked at Elliot again, her face white and her eyes sorrowful. "God, I didn't...I didn't even realize I was yelling! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake up your…"

"Shh," he silenced her with a warm smile as he brushed a finger over her lips.

Olivia sighed and then looked back at Maureen. "Sweetie, I'm so sorry, I wasn't yelling at Daddy, I just...I was just...thinking about…"

"Your mom?" Maureen bit her lip. "You miss her?"

Olivia nodded with a sad smile. "But I'm okay, sweetie." She lifted up the small ten year old, carrying her over to the stairs. "Let's get you back to bed."

Elliot followed Olivia as she carried Maureen up the steps and into the bedroom she shared with Kathleen. He watched as she tucked his daughter in, kissed her goodnight, and switched on the night light.

When she closed the girls' door, he took her hand and led her into the room across the hall, the one they now shared, and he kissed her tenderly as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her down onto his lap.

"El, what's wrong?" She knew the look in his eyes, the way he shook his head told her something was up. "Hey, what…"

"She didn't leave you alone," he whispered to her, stopping her words. He stared into her eyes, seeing the way she was looking back at him. He leaned in, kissing her lips. "You're not alone, baby."

"I know," she told him, and after taking a deep breath she kissed his chin and his neck and a spot behind his ear. "You and the kids, I've got…"

"A family," he spoke softly, returning each soft kiss. When he moved back to kiss her lips, before he moved closer, he said, "I wish I could get you to believe that we really are your family, baby."

She was silent for a moment, searching his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and pure adoration. Something inside of her snapped into place, like a missing puzzle piece, and she said, "God, I believe you."

He moaned softly when she crashed her lips into his, relief flooded him and he groaned as he felt her shift her weight. He ran his hands over the sides of her thighs as she straddled him, deepening the kiss, a fire igniting somewhere deep in him.

She bucked against him, her need for him becoming physical now, and she clutched his head as she kissed him with more insistence. She could feel his hands moving, lifting her shirt up, and she rocked her hips and raised her arms, telling him he had permission to take it off of her.

He took the cue, pulling the material up and off, tossing the shirt over her head, and with a soft growl, he kissed her again, slipping his hands to her breasts. He squeezed, his thumbs grazing her nipples, and he moaned when he felt her gasp against his mouth.

She worked her way under his tee shirt, then, and pried it off of him, letting it drop to the floor. Her hands moved to his pants, battling with his for the fastest draw.

He moved just a bit faster, spinning her and flattening her down on the mattress. As he peeled away the rest of her clothes, he peppered her body with soft kisses, sparing no spot of her skin. He trailed one hand to her stomach, holding her still as he moved, his lips grazing over her thighs and calves. He kissed his way back up, pausing to nip at her sides and again to toy with her nipples. He alternated between them, running his tongue around them before sucking each one into his mouth.

Her eyes were closed, her hands were tangled in his short hair, her nails dragging in polygon patterns as her back arched and she moaned his name.

He let her left nipple pop out of his mouth and he moved to catch her lips before she could speak. Slow, deep, perfect. He felt her trail her hands down his back, and with a moan, he worked his hips in short half-circles to help her shove his sweatpants down. He kept the kiss unhurried as he let his knuckles brush along her side, caressing and cherishing her while he positioned himself in the perfect spot.

She held her breath and bit his bottom lip, anticipating the blissful torture of his first thrust. "Elliot," she intoned, dropping her head back as her body gave in to him. Her hips rose to take all of him in, her eyes welled up with a new set of tears for a new emotion.

He let out a soft grunt as he sheathed himself that final inch, his pelvis kissing hers as he kissed her lips. A simultaneous connection. "Liv," he trembled, keeping himself up with the strength of his arms. He nuzzled her, whispered her name again, and began to move at an undemanding pace. He made sure that he never fully pulled out, but always eased all the way back, a rock of his body brushing against her clit with every pass.

Her fingers curled, her legs wrapped around his thighs, and she hiked up to meet his deep and powerful thrusts.

He felt her dig into his back, pulling him down while she pulled herself up as if they could possibly get any closer. He gave her what she wanted, needed, and moved harder, deeper, gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

She clawed at his shoulders, red streaks marking her path. "Oh, my God," she whimpered, feeling him, all of him. "Elliot."

"Oh, God," he breathed, and he had to pick up speed. She was tightening and he needed to hold her off or catch up. He couldn't stop, he didn't want this to end, it was as if he was claiming her, possessing her, yet giving all of himself to her at the same time. "Liv," he gritted out through his clenched jaw. He rolled his eyes, her clamping becoming too powerful to work through.

Her moans grew higher, louder as she felt him drag against her clit as he moved, and she shivered when he thrust back in, her entire body tensing and tightening. "El, baby, oh, my God," she cried, her back angling as she came hard, locking him inside of her as she hooked her entire body around his.

"Fuck, baby," he whispered softly, succumbing to her. Her pulsing walls around him coaxed it out of him, he shot off, hot and fiercely. He grunted and growled as he jerked and found her lips, kissing her and mumbling her name and God's against her lips.

They calmed as they kissed, and he gave another loud grunt as he rolled them over, his arms now too weak to keep him from crushing her. "Baby," he whispered into her hair, kissing her head, "I love you."

She snuggled against him, feeling his body rise beneath her as he yanked the quilt over them. "I love you," she told him. "So much." Her eyes closed and she knew. She knew she'd used sex with him as an escape from the anger and pain, an escape from the guilt and regret, from the self-loathing and blame. She also knew he was fully aware, and let her use him. He was there, to be her escape, to catch her when she fell, to put her back together after she broke. She tried to snuggle closer, feeling him still inside of her, and she turned her head to kiss his heaving chest.

He smiled as he felt her lips move against his tingling skin, and he heard what she whispered to him. "I always will be. For the rest of our lives." With closed eyes, he kissed the top of her head again. "Right here, baby."

There was peaceful silence, their heartbeats and heavy breaths the only sounds to be heard. They were almost asleep, a moment away from dreaming about the last hour of their lives when a loud and frantic knock on the door jolted them.

They both shot up, Elliot groaned as he slipped out of his lover and she seethed at the rough yank, and they each reached for a fluffy bathrobe as the knock grew louder. He grabbed his off-duty weapon from the nightstand. He made sure it was loaded, then eyed her. "Stay here," he said sternly. "Your gun is in the living room…"

"Because killers always knock first," she said stoically, raising one eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes and laughed at himself, but stuck to his word and silently warned her to stay put. He kept the gun at his side and cautiously moved down the stairs over to the door. He looked through the peephole and narrowed his eyes. "What the hell," he spat. He unlocked and opened the door with a huffing, "Cap, what are you doing here?"

Cragen blew into his cold hands and rubbed them together as he stepped into the living room. He looked around, trying to discern if there were signs that someone else moved in when Kathy moved out, but he shook his head and turned to Elliot. "Where is she?"

Elliot looked around, shrugged, and said, "Bathroom, maybe?" He felt the lie on his lips before he thought of it. "She was asleep on the couch when I went…"

"So she's still here?" Cragen took his hat off and moved further into the house, looked down at the couch and the crumpled blanket, and sighed as he sat. "I'm not gonna take up too much of your time, I just...need to get something off my chest, and I need...to tell you, and her…"

"What?" Elliot sent a discreet look up the stairs, exhaling when he saw a fully dressed Olivia padding her way down them. "Tell us what?"

Cragen shot to his feet again, seeing Olivia, and he wound his hands around the rim of his hat. "Olivia, I…" he tilted his head. "Why were you up…"

"Bathroom down here is shot," she said fast. "Something with the pipes. He has a plumber coming Saturday."

Satisfied with the answer, Cragen nodded. "Look, I...I know the two of you know that I'm in AA."

Elliot nodded, then he looked at Olivia. "Yeah," he turned back to Cragen. "We know."

Cragen scratched the back of his neck and sighed almost guiltily. "Thing is...Olivia, so was your mother. I didn't realize it was her, not until...not until recently."

"Wait," she said, holding up a hand and blinking rapidly. "My mother went to meetings? The same ones...your meetings, and you…"

"Please," Cragen interrupted her, gesturing to the couch. "Please, sit. There are a couple of things…" he looked at Elliot. "Things she spoke about, things she told me...us at the meetings…" he swallowed hard. "Things you should know." He looked at Elliot and nodded. "Both of you."

 **A/N: What?**


	36. Chapter 36

**A/N:** **Hey, what you got to hide? (I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"Cap," Elliot chewed on his lip, "You're making us nervous. What's this about?"

Cragen huffed. He knew he had been dragging out the silence, prolonging the inevitable. "You know, uh, a lot comes out in those meetings," he wrung his hands together and let out another hard breath. "It's supposed to be anonymous, I never...I never put two and two together until, uh, during one session she…" he darted his eyes from the floor to Olivia's concerned face. "We all had to talk about why we thought we drank, what we were trying to forget or hide. She told us all...about the night she…" he closed his eyes tightly. "The minute she started talking, I knew it was your mother. It was all just like her original statement, every detail…"

"I really can't imagine she'd ever forgotten anything about that night, so..." she looked over at Elliot, a silent question in her eyes.

He knew how it would look, he knew what it would mean, but he moved and sat beside her anyway, hooking his arm around her and pulling her into him. "Go on," he gave Cragen an almost challenging look as he nodded.

Cragen stared at the two of them for a moment. He swallowed another hard gulp, took a breath, and then said, "Once I realized it was her, a lot of the other things she'd said...when I realized she was talking about you, that she meant you the whole time, I…" he choked on his words, tears filling his weathered eyes and slowly rolling down his aged cheeks. He laughed at himself for displaying such emotion, but he sniffled, shook his head, and then spoke again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know how cruel she was to you for so long."

"No one did," her soft response was spoken into Elliot's shoulder. "It was supposed to stay that way."

"Um, the, uh...the last meeting she came to," Cragen cleared his throat and wiped his eyes, "She said...she told us how proud she was of you, that you were the reason she was in treatment. And then she said...she said she wanted to be the kind of mother that you deserved, and the kind of grandmother…" he narrowed his eyes at Olivia. "She said you had kids. Now, is there something you're not putting on your file, or…"

Olivia sat up straight and interrupted him. "She said what?" the shock evident in her voice.

"See, that's," Cragen wagged a finger and let out a nervous laugh. "That's the thing, I knew...I knew she wasn't being honest, but hearing her talk about you and the family she thinks you have, the way her eyes lit up and how happy she was...were you the one lying to her? Maybe trying to make her feel…"

"No," the harshness of her snap gave proof she was offended. "Jesus, I had a horrible childhood with her, I wouldn't willingly let her think she had an opportunity to do even more damage to the next generation!"

Elliot looked at her and brushed a palm over her head, soothing her, and he took a long, deep breath. "Serena…" he exhaled with a tremble, and he looked from Olivia to Cragen. "She meant my kids. She was talking about me, um...us." He raised his shoulders and tilted his head. "We, uh...we spent some time together, all of us, and, ya know, she obviously knew…" he paused. He could still keep Cragen guessing, keep them safe. "Serena knew how close me and Liv are, so she may have thought of my kids are her grandkids since Liv…"

"Thinks of them as her own, too," Cragen nodded, understanding. "Is there...is there more to it than that?"

Olivia laid a hand over Elliot's knee, squeezing as she closed her eyes in disappointed realization. "Well, what else did she say?"

Cragen smiled, warmth and sadness edging his lips. "She said she was thankful she was sober when she met the man her little girl was gonna marry, and that she didn't scare him away the way she had a hundred times before, that she knew her daughter was safe and happy, and...so loved." He didn't stop the tears this time, because he saw the way they touched, tenderly with a profound intimacy that proved that what used to be only a small suspicion had become absolute truth. "I came here tonight…" he took another shallow breath. "Because I wanted to tell you that. You needed to know that she didn't hate you, she didn't resent you, and that she...wanted so badly to…" he lost his words, his heart breaking like thin glass as he saw Olivia drop her head back into Elliot's body.

Elliot braced her head against him and pressed his lips to her crown, whispering something Cragen couldn't hear. He felt her nod and then looked up at his captain. "Thanks," he said. "You, uh...you could've told us at work. You didn't have to come all the way..."

"I heard stories from her that made me despise her," Cragen broke in, his eyes suddenly a bit more narrow. "Made me want to break protocol and tell her who I was, that I knew who she was, and that I knew you. God, I wanted to make her regret ever hurting you, Olivia. Make her sorry for never getting to know who you really are. But then she…" he sniffled. "When she stopped talking about the past and started talking about the relationship she had with you, now... I wondered if maybe I was the one who didn't really know you."

"Oh, really? Now you're laying a guilt trip on her?" Elliot nearly growled, tightening his protective hold on Olivia. "You think now is a good time to pull the _captain_ card and make her choose…"

"Elliot, please," Cragen held up both hands, palms out, eyes closed, "I'm not. I promise, I'm not. I just meant that...I know there's a line. A pretty thick line that shouldn't be crossed. I'm your boss, end of story, but...and this goes for both of you, all right?" He ran a hand over the top of his head. "I've tried to keep you just over that line, distance myself, remain objective." He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "I don't really know either of you outside the station, and while that may be exactly how it's supposed to be, it's not...it's not how I want it anymore."

"What are you trying to say?" Olivia asked, her head up now. She shifted a bit, unsure of whether or not she was about to be fired because her mother unknowingly gave away her biggest secrets in a moment of clarity.

"Listening to your mother," Cragen began, and he scooted forward on the couch, "The light in her eyes that, let's face it, wasn't there for most of her life...was so bright in those last few weeks. I realized it was because her newfound family gave her a reason to live, a reason to hold on, and yes, she slipped up, she made a tragic mistake…" he shrugged. "Tonight, I had to be the one to tell the rest of the group that your mother was gone. It affected the whole conversation, turned the entire planned session around. One of the questions we had to answer tonight…"

"You were at a meeting tonight?" Olivia asked, understanding his urgency now.

Cragen nodded. "In light of her death, we were asked to think about our legacy, what we wanted to leave behind and who we wanted to leave it with," he said. "We were asked...who it was that kept us all from picking up a bottle and giving up. I didn't know, right away. I didn't have an immediate answer."

"I do," Elliot said, pressing another soft kiss to Olivia's temple.

Seeing it made Cragen smile again, but it short-lived. His smile faded into a flat line of respite. "I don't have anyone. My...my wife has been gone for years, we never had children...but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I'm fighting this disease...for you."

Olivia gasped softly, a hand shot to her mouth and cupped over her lips as her nails dug deeper into Elliot's knee.

Elliot dropped a hand over hers and stroked the side of her palm with his thumb, a knot forming in his stomach. "Her?"

"Both of you," Cragen corrected with a single nod of his head. "The people I feel the most protective of, the ones that make me determined to keep myself in check and be the best possible man and cop I can be...it's the two of you." He cleared his throat again, it was suddenly dry and terribly itchy. "I think of you both as...well, I guess it's the way you think of Elliot's kids as your own, I...I think of the both of you as mine. I needed to come here tonight to tell you, Olivia, that I know you've lost the only parent you've ever known, and Elliot...you lost your father when you needed him the most. I want you to know...you're both fully grown adults. This sounds so silly, actually saying it out loud, but you...you've both got a father, if you ever...need one."

"Cap," Elliot wheezed softly, sentiment in the slight whisper. The knot in his stomach twisted tighter and he shot a balled fist to his mouth, closing his eyes. With his other hand, he spread his fingers a bit, looping them between Olivia's, and clutched them closed around hers. This was definitely not what he expected and he wasn't sure how to feel. He swallowed hard and exhales slowly. "How thick is that line you're trying not to cross, exactly?" he asked, sending a grateful but severe look toward Cragen. "Where does the father end, and the boss begin?"

Cragen knew what he was trying to determine, and he sat forward a bit, blinking away the last of the tears that had formed but not fallen. "You haven't broken any rules, here, Elliot. She's here because she needs you, her partner, her friend. Right?" He knew it must've been more than that. He had heard Serena say something about marriage. But he couldn't let it be real, yet. Not just yet.

"Yeah," Elliot scoffed. "Right." His eyes rolled slightly as he shook his head the tiniest bit.

Cragen sniffled again. He sucked in a breath as he rose off the couch. "And as long as I still don't really know either of you beyond our squadroom walls, I don't...really know what's going on here, so there's no need for me to interfere." He offered a smile, shielding the slight hurt at the almost cold reaction his honest admission had received.

Olivia stood, then, too, and unintentionally pulled Elliot up with her. "Wait, you...you can't just unload all of that and then leave," she uttered, stepping closer to him. "And I can't...I mean, what you said about…" she shook her head, fighting back the emotions that were threatening to come to a full boil. "You really think of us as...your family?"

Cragen nodded with an unsure tilt of his head. "I can't explain it, but it's true."

Olivia wriggled her fingers out of Elliot's and moved a bit more, tentatively hugging Cragen, and she whispered, "You have no idea what that means to me."

With a relieved sigh, Cragen hugged her back and said, "I meant what I said. If either of you ever need anything…" he leaned back and looked into her eyes. "Anything," he repeated with more finality, "You just need to ask."

"What if…" she eyed Elliot for a moment and couldn't help but smile. "What if we're not ready to ask you?" She turned to look back at Cragen and bit her lip.

"Then maybe...wait a while before you ask me," Cragen replied, smiling at her. "Just letting you know that you can." He turned and held out a hand toward Elliot. "The father will probably answer before the captain can argue."

Elliot shook Cragen's hand, but then gripped it a tugged him into a manly, one-armed hug, but so much emotion lied in it. He slapped Cragen's shoulder twice, gave a sniffle of his own, and backed up. "Thanks, Jefe," he said, smirking at the older man.

Cragen grinned back, gave Olivia another small hug, and said, "Uh, an order...from the father and the boss," he pointed a finger at him as he picked his hat up off the coffee table. "Stay home. I'm not calling you in, you're not going near the station. Not today."

Olivia nodded, her eyes filling with more tears, but ones that wouldn't fall into existence.

"I'll be there, both times, and I've called in a favor. Tomorrow, the department will be giving your mother a full honor guard," he said to her.

Olivia's eyes widened. "Cap, she...she wasn't a cop, how is that…"

"It's only right," Cragen stopped her. "She wasn't a cop, but she gave birth to one of the best in the business." He winked at her. "It's the least...the least I could do." He waved once again on his way to the door, and he saw himself out making sure to close it right behind him.

"Shit," Elliot breathed, running his body into Olivia's.

She held him back, tightly and closely. "That was...God, that was…"

"Unexpected," he said, and then he looked down at her and smiled. "But pretty fucking wonderful." He kissed her once and then quickly left her to run and lock the door. He grabbed her hand and led her back up the stairs, back to their bedroom.

They were comfortably silent, letting Cragen's words resonate and the reality of the day ahead fall onto them. He practically lifted her into the bed and gently crawled on top of her, kissing her softly but deeply as he maneuvered the covers up and over them. He rolled to the side, keeping her attached to her lips, and pressed his forehead to hers as she pulled away. "I love you," he whispered.

"I love you, too," she filtered back. "But...why did my mother tell her support group that...that we're getting married?"

Elliot sighed, closed his eyes, and dragged his fingertips up and down Olivia's arm as he answered her. "Because I asked her permission to ask you to marry me."

Her small gasp caused his eyes to open, but she didn't pull away from him at all. She stared at him, forehead touching his. "What? When? Why?"

"Two weeks ago, she called," he said softly, still slowly caressing her arm, calming her into drowsiness as he spoke. "You were in the shower, so I talked to her for a while until you could. She asked me once what my intentions were, and at the time I was so stunned by the question I...I mean, I was honest. I told her I would honor, defend and protect you, and love you so fucking much. But this time I told her that I have every intention of doing it all for the rest of my life. I asked her if she would let me be the one that gets to do that."

"What did she say?" She nuzzled his nose with hers, snuggling closer to him.

He smiled, remembering. "She told me she remembered what I told her the day we had to take her home from Central. About me being a Marine, so when I make a promise, I keep it. She said as long as I made you the same exact promise I made to the Corps, I could marry you a thousand times."

She kissed his lips, his words hitting her heart and soul. "What promise?"

He moved even closer, his entire body pressing against hers, his heart beating against her chest, his right leg hooked over her. "Semper Fi," he whispered. He made sure she was gazing right into his eyes. "Always faithful, Kid." He closed his eyes. "Always."

She nodded, her whole being vehemently promising the same thing, and she kissed him as her own eyes slid shut. Her last thought as she drifted away was directed to her mother. Something she never thought she'd ever say to the woman: _Thank you, Mom._

 **A/N: The wake. The funeral. The repercussions. And an uncovered secret that no one saw coming. Next?**


	37. Chapter 37

**A/N: I get angry, too. Well, I'm alive like you.** **(I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

Her peripheral vision blurred and brightened; the only thing in focus was the coffin and the ring of flowers at its crown. She gave one-armed hugs and mumbled "Thanks for coming"s without even realizing who was there. Her eyes were trained on the dark wood, it's shiny lacquer and chrome accents, as if she couldn't be sure it actually existed.

"Hey," his hand swept down her back, resting on the curve of her hip. He kissed her cheek softly and whispered, "Breathe."

As if he'd given her the secret to the universe, she inhaled deeply and relaxed with a quick nod of her head. "I am." She blinked rapidly a few times, finally tearing her eyes away from the casket. She looked to the left, eying the gorgeous floral arrangements. There was one from Hudson University where Serena had worked, two from the NYPD, one from the SVU, a small one from Serena's group in AA, and a beautiful stone vase filled with lilies and violets, from Elliot and the kids.

She smiled sadly, wondering if those flowers would still have been sent if the people who'd sent them had known the truth. She turned and looked up at Elliot, and she scoffed as tears filled her eyes. She shook her head with a bitter and resentful laugh, then dropped herself into Elliot. Her head fell into his chest, her arms looped around him, and she closed her eyes when she felt him kiss the top of her head.

"There's a woman here," he whispered, raking his hands through her hair and lightly massaging the nape of her neck, "Says she's your aunt?"

Olivia's head popped up, she looked at Elliot as though he had four heads, and she wiped her eyes. "I don't…"

"I know you don't," he said, stopping her. "That's why I thought you needed to know. She's over there talking to Cragen, and he already…"

"Shit," she hissed, and she turned and walked away from him, heading for Cragen and the strange blonde she couldn't recall ever meeting before at all. She plastered on a smile and smoothed down the dress that Elliot bought for her despite her protests. "Excuse me," she interrupted the conversation between this woman and her boss. "I'm sorry, I don't...I'm not sure we've…"

"Olivia," the woman sighed with a somewhat exaggerated frown. She hugged Olivia tightly and said, "I am so sorry, sweetie pie."

"Sweetie pie?" Olivia mouthed to Cragen with a half-offended, half-confused look on her face. She lightly patted the woman's shoulder with the fingertips of one hand and pulled herself back. "Sorry. Do I know you?"

"Aunt Lisa, darling!" She seemed wholly offended that Olivia didn't know who she was, with one hand over her heart and the other still on Olivia's shoulder. "Well, not your real aunt, of course, you know, Serena was an only child. I was her best friend, all through high school and college. I was with her the night...oh," she cringed and shook her head, tears springing to her eyes, and brandished her hand.

Olivia raised an eyebrow at her, glanced at Cragen, and then turned to the woman again. "Well, um, Lisa, was it?"

"Yes, sweetie," Lisa nodded, and she gave Olivia's shoulder a squeeze before letting her hand fall away. "When you were born, you stayed with me while Mommy went to work, but when you started school…" she shrugged. "I didn't see you so much anymore." She smiled and said, "Your mother and I talked all the time, right up until the very end, and she spoke so highly of you." She tilted her head. "Last I heard you were heading to the police academy! I'm sure you know that's going to be pretty rough. If you ever need anything…"

"Pardon me," Olivia interrupted, raising a hand. "How recent was this conversation? I've been out of the academy and in the field for years. I'm a detective, now, so I really can't believe…"

Lisa clicked her tongue and smiled sheepishly. "It really felt like we talked all the time, I guess, life must've simply gotten in the way." She leaned in and said again, "I am so sorry. She was always so full of life! Her death came as such a shock."

"Really?" Olivia couldn't control the temper flare, or pin down why she was suddenly so angry. "Because I saw this coming. I expected this, and for years, whenever the phone rang, I always thought...this is it. This is someone telling me she drank herself to death." She let out a scathing laugh, one that seemed to be almost hateful. "Everyone who has come into this room...they keep hugging me, telling me they're sorry for my loss, asking if there's anything they can do, but where the hell were they? No...where were _you_ when she was passed out in bars, blacked out on bus stop benches, taking everything that was wrong in her life out on me?" She shook her head and stammered as hot tears filled her open eyes. "You..you all show up when she's gone and hand me your sympathies, I've heard stories from people who considered her their best friend, but ya know what? I don't let my best friend out of my sight! If he needs me, I'm right there! If he's upset, I'm right fucking there! I don't let him drink himself stupid, or make dangerous decisions, and I sure as hell don't let him spend the night three states away while his eight-year-old daughter is home alone in the dark, so you tell me, _Aunt Lisa,_ where the hell were you?"

The woman stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape, frozen.

Realizing her outburst, Olivia muttered a quick apology and ran out of the room, blowing past people who were trying to speak to her.

"I'll go," Elliot said, offering a silent apologetic nod to Cragen and Lisa. He weaved through the people milling about and paying their respects and stepped out of the viewing room into the cold hallway. He looked around and sighed when he spotted her, and then walked quickly to her side. "Hey, hey, Kid," he cooed, pulling her to him. "Easy, baby," he whispered.

"I don't know...I don't know where that all…" she lifted her shoulders and turned up her eyes. "I'm sorry."

He kissed her softly. "I punched my Uncle Lou at my father's funeral," he told her, both of his large hands resting on the sides of her face. "He knew all about Kevin, never said a damn thing, then comes up to us, looks down at my dead father, and says 'He was a good man." He shook his head and said, "In this situation, baby, people just think they have to say the right things, ya know? There are these pre-programmed phrases that get spit out because we think it's necessary, and no one wants to speak ill of the dead."

She nodded and hooked one hand around the back of his neck. "I guess I just…" she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out fast, and then whispered, "I was looking for someone to blame. If any of these people loved her as much as they claim, she never would have been in that bar alone. She would have had support, and someone to lean on, and she never would have…"

"Listen, Kid, you don't know that," he whispered to her. "It's a part of the process, ya know? Trying to justify, somehow make it less her fault, but, sweetie, it didn't matter who called her, who went with her, who was there, or who wasn't...your mother was a grown woman, she made her own choices. But what it all boils down to, the constant that lies in the stories every single person we've talked to in there...is you. She loved you, honey. She may not have always shown it, but she…"

"Elliot," a voice broke into their conversation. The blonde smiled weakly and offered a slight wave, and then very slowly, cautiously, she moved closer to Olivia. She gave a tentative reach of her arms and a whispered, "Liv, I'm so sorry," and then a full but light hug.

"Thank you, Kathy," Olivia whispered back, slightly stunned at the display. She broke away and looked at the woman who was once her sworn enemy.

"Hey," Kathy chuckled. "You got my name right," she winked and pointed playfully at Olivia. "The kids are in the quiet room, they each have a book and…" she looked at Elliot. "Your mother is in there with them."

"Thanks," he said gently to his ex-wife. "Really, thank you."

Kathy gave him a closed-eye tilt of her head and raised both hands. "No thanks needed," she looked at Olivia as her arms fell and her smile warmed and grew a bit. "That's...that's what family's for, right?" She shrugged. "It's what we are now, isn't it?"

Olivia smiled back at her and nodded. Fresh tears formed, for a wholly different reason, but she didn't let them fall. "I should...I should go back in there and apologize to Lisa."

"I'll go with you," Kathy said, and she held out a hand. She looked into Olivia's eyes and nodded once, encouragingly, almost surrendering. "If...if that's okay."

Olivia nodded back and slapped her hand into Kathy's, kissed Elliot's cheek, and let Kathy pull her into the viewing room.

Elliot looked on with a broad smile, his heart swelling at the sight of the mother of his children and the love of his life finally getting along. He walked, then, with his hands in his pockets, down the empty hall. His footsteps echoed and he could hear his own heartbeat. He rested a hand against the door of the quiet room for a moment, composing himself so his children wouldn't see him looking upset, and he pushed it open with a smile. "Guys," he said softly.

"Hi, Daddy," Kathleen waved, her book flopping into her lap as she let it go.

Dickie ran to him and Elliot gladly scooped him up, and he kissed his father's cheek. "Is Liv okay?"

"She's okay, Bud," he told his son. "She'll be a lot better once she sees you guys." He moved further into the room, kissing Maureen and Lizzie on the forehead, and then sat in the spot between his mother and Kathleen on the longer sofa. He exhaled, long and heavy, and then gave Kathleen a kiss on the cheek before turning to his mother. "Thanks, Ma," he said with a soft smile.

Bernie smiled at her son. "She's family," she patted his knee. "She's, what, my new daughter-in-law, I imagine?"

"Hopefully," he chuckled, and he kissed his mother's cheek as well. "She definitely had a Stabler moment, in there, so she's one of us already." He grinned at the thought, the possibility of one day making it official, giving her his last name, holding onto her forever. It was then that he looked around. The walls were stark white, all of the furniture stained a dark brown. There was a small vase with a few wilting roses plopped into it, sitting on top of a round end table. A stack of Bibles and prayer envelopes ley on the shelf beneath it. The paintings on the walls were all brightly colored landscapes, beaches and lighthouses at sunset with cotton candy skies and marshmallow clouds, and he turned up his nose at the callousness of it all.

"I know that look," Bernie whispered to her son. "Spill it."

He frowned slightly and shifted Dickie and his book to the other side of his lap. "It's all so presumptuous. Those paintings, they're a little too happy, don't ya think? And people in this room…"

"Need to have faith that their loved one truly is in a better place," Bernie said before he could finish. "Those paintings? They represent beacons of light, guiding us home. A serenity that the people who often use this room may need." She sighed. "It isn't often that this place is used to keep a bunch of kids occupied while their stepmother deals with the hard stuff." She reached out and brushed Dickie's hair back.

"Ma, she's not their stepmother." He rolled his eyes but his slight smirk hidden by a bitten lip gave away the truth: that he wanted her to be.

"Give it time." Bernie nudged him with a small laugh. "Do you remember why I spent most of the time during your father's wake in a room like this?"

Elliot nodded curtly. "You were yelling at the top of your lungs, for hours. I couldn't figure out if you were furious or hysterical."

"A bit of both," Bernie said firmly. "I was angry that he left me alone with six kids, I was angry that he had two other kids with a woman in Brooklyn, and I was so hurt...I loved him, he was half my life, and he was just...gone. So I needed to yell." She gave a smug shrug. "It's the quiet room, Elliot, because either people just need a bit of peace and time alone or they need a safe place to let everything go where no one else can hear them."

A small chuckle came from the entryway. "I probably should have come in here, about ten minutes ago, huh?" Olivia smiled as she walked further into the room and gratefully accepted the tight hugs and numerous kisses from the kids, even Dickie had leaped from his father's lap to run to her. She wobbled with the weight of all of the little bodies against her, over to the couch, where she bent to hug Bernie and then sat beside Elliot. "Everyone's gone, and now we...wait, and then do it all over again in a couple of hours."

Elliot smoothed her hair back and kissed her temple. "I think we need chocolate cake," he winked and moved his lips across her cheek, down to her chin, and then kissed her fully, soft yet deep.

"Cake?" Dickie's head popped up off of Olivia's shoulder, an eager expression on his face.

Lizzie turned her head, her pigtails whipping around, and she pushed her glasses up higher on her nose. "What cake? Where's the cake?"

"Good job," Olivia laughed, looking over at Elliot.

He beamed at her, loving the way her smile hit her eyes, making them crinkle in the corners. He hadn't seen her smile like that in so long, it seemed, and he kissed her softly again. "What can I say, I just knew cake would be the answer to…"

A knock on the door, which happened at the same time as it creaked open, stopped him from finishing his sentence. Cragen tried to smile as he poked his head into the room. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Olivia said, offering an unsure but kind smile in return.

Cragen closed the door behind him and took a few steps into the room. He looked first at Elliot and then gave a quizzical glance toward Bernie. He let his eyes wander, landed on each Stabler child, their black and white outfits making them all look morbidly elegant. He noticed each kid had a book in their hands, and all but the twins were actively engrossed in their stories. He smiled wider, cleared his throat, and then stepped closer and looked down at Olivia. "How are you holding up, honey?"

"I'm...better," she said, an affirmation punctuated by a single, sharp nod. "Thank you. For being here."

"Of course," he said, and then he scratched his head and carefully perched himself on the large darkly stained coffee table. "Do you need anything?"

She shook her head and patted Dickie's back as he dropped his head down to her shoulder again, figuring if he wasn't getting his cake, he could go back to sleep. "Everything's pretty much taken care of, and we're just…" she took a few moments to run her eyes over the room, the children, Bernie, and Elliot. She smiled. "We're going to get something to eat, the kids demand cake." She thought for a moment. "Do you want to come with us?"

"No, no," he chuckled as he politely refused. "You need to be with your...family. I don't want to encroach on time with your…"

"You said it this morning," Elliot interrupted. "You are family." He gave his boss a nervous look, chewed on his lip for a pause, and then said, "I have to tell you, though, uh, especially today...you might see us…"

"That's…" Cragen interrupted, raising a hand, "That's why it's better if I don't join you." He narrowed his eyes slightly at Elliot and then looked back at Olivia. He shoved a hand into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a thin envelope, folded in half. "I wasn't sure if I was ready to give you this, or if you were ready to have it. It's something…" he took a breath, "something Elliot asked for months ago, and until your mother died, I didn't see a reason to make the people down in records go digging for it." He handed it to her, upturned eyes willing her to take it.

"What...what is this?" She darted her eyes from Cragen to Elliot and back again.

Cragen rubbed his lips together for a moment, second-guessing himself. "Maybe it isn't the best time, but with your reviews coming up and the two of you taking the department exam, I believe this is something you need. Now more than ever." He fixed a stern gaze at Elliot. "And someone told me there might be a more personal reason you'd need this."

Olivia, puzzled and curious, flattened the envelope down on her right knee, since Dickie was occupying her left, and slipped a finger into the open corner of the flap. She pulled hard, ripping it open, and deftly slipped the paper out of the sleeve. She lifted and flicked, fanning it open, and when she read it, her confusion didn't dissipate, it worsened. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure why I would need…" her eyes narrowed as her words stopped. "Who is he?"

Elliot saw her head turn toward him for the answer, her eyes hopeful and afraid. He took the single page report from her. He looked down at the mugshot, the name and address, the date of birth, the police record, and then looked back up at her. "I told you...a long time ago...I'd find him," he held her gaze and handed the paper back to her.

She blinked twice, dropping her focus to the beige colored report in her hand. "Is this...is this really…"

"His prints are in in the system," Cragen interrupted. "His DNA isn't. Elliot, uh, he spent a lot of time down in the crypt, going through boxes, making the lab run every test known to man, and finally…" he gestured to Elliot.

"Ryan did this awesome magic trick with a hot box and super glue," Elliot told her. "There was a handprint on the sleeve of your mother's jacket." He smoothed a hand over her head, playing with her hair again. "You get that from her, ya know. The leather thing." He kissed her cheek. "The only way to know, baby, is…"

"Yes," she spoke softly as she nodded. She looked from Elliot to the paper again, studying all of the information and trying to make connections in her head. She licked her lips and looked up, her eyes landing on a small painting on the back wall of the room. A lighthouse on a hill, it's beam shining into the horizon, over the ocean, and she thought, just for a moment, it was her mother telling her she'd finally found the one piece of her that was missing, the one space in her life left unfilled.

Her father.

 **A/N: Say wahhhhh?**


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N: When you're standing at a crossroads, don't know which path to choose, let me come along.** **(I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

It had been two hours since she stopped correcting people when they told her that her children were beautiful, one hour since she stopped telling them Elliot wasn't her husband. It didn't seem worth it anymore, and if they didn't care enough to know anything about her life in the first place, she could let them believe a few lies. The influx stopped at six, the mass ended at 7, and now she stood in a spot in front of her mother's casket, staring coldly into the photograph eyes of a framed portrait of Serena.

"Honey," Elliot swiped his hands down Olivia's arms, and then dropped his chin to her shoulder, "The guys are here."

She shook her head as her arms crossed, her hands covering his, hugging him backwards. "Okay," she sniffled and closed her eyes. What she hoped was the last few tears wiggled loose and rolled down her cheeks. She walked with him, still in his gentle hold, passed the strange faces in chairs toward the few people she recognized. She tried to smile, slipping away from Elliot and moving to give Jeffries a light hug, she nodded as she shook Cassidy's hand, and then she hugged Munch, a bit tighter, a bit longer, and whispered, "Thank you, John."

Munch concealed his own emotions well, patting her softly on the back and nodding, and then he stepped aside to let Tucker and Cragen through to see her. They each shook Elliot's hand first, and then hugged Olivia, both men near tears as she was brought back over the precipice and sobbed again, removing herself from Tucker to turn and fall into Elliot.

Over her shoulder, he caught Tucker's eye and shook his head, brushing her hair back with his fingers and shushing her softly.

Tucker squeezed the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes tight, and then took a deep breath before looking back up at Elliot. "Where are the kids?"

Elliot silently shot his eyes to the side of the room, where Bernie had all four kids on a long cushioned bench reading their books. He watched as Tucker walked over and smiled at each kid, then picked Dickie up and sat on the bench, plopping the boy on his lap. He smiled, watching Ed read to his son, and he tried to understand how someone could separate his professional life and his personal life so dramatically. He looked down, then, feeling Olivia move. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I was just...thinking about that man. I wanted her to be here, if we ever found him, so she could stop looking over her shoulder, stop wondering if he'd be in the grocery store or the bookshop." Shaking her head, she wiped her eyes and said, "I just wanted her to know a life without fear, and for her to be there when we nailed the bastard."

"What are you talking about, Liv?" Jeffries asked, giving Olivia a confused blink. "Who, honey?"

Olivia's cheeks reddened slightly. She didn't know what to say.

Elliot stepped in to save her, offering Jeffries a polite smile. "You know her," he said with a bubble of his lips. "Always thinking about work, even at a time like this."

Jeffries let out a soft laugh and rested a hand on Olivia's shoulder. "Listen, Benson, you're gonna get justice, and the prick will be sorry he was ever born, and the woman...she'll know that you got him. Don't worry about that. Not now. Not tonight."

Olivia nodded and smiled again. "Thanks," she said through her tightly stretched lips.

Leaning closer to her, Elliot whispered, "She's right. Your mom will know, baby. And she isn't...she isn't afraid anymore. She isn't in pain, and she's never gonna hurt you again." He kissed her lips sweetly, forgetting Cragen was a few feet away, but not caring so much either.

"You always know," she told him. "You always just know exactly what I need to hear."

He smiled and kissed her again. "I know you, Kid, and I always know what you need to hear because it's what I need to say, that's how love works. We click." He tapped her nose and winked.

She laughed softly, took a deep breath, and then said, "If it is him…" she looked up into his eyes, "I'm Irish." She shrugged and tilted her head.

With a chuckle, he looped an arm around her. "Only a quarter, the man is half Italian." He narrowed his eyes a bit. "So does this mean you want to bring him in? Talk to him?"

"No, I...I don't know," she pursed her lips and worked them to the side. "It would answer some questions, but what if...what if it's not him? What if I go through Hell and he's not the guy, and I still don't know who I…"

"Olivia Benson," he stopped her, pressing a finger to her lips, "You know exactly who you are." He winked with a smile.

She returned his smile but shook her head. "Not completely," her gaze shifted. She noticed a few people heading toward her and said, "Oh, excuse me," before kissing Elliot on the cheek and moving to say her goodbyes to some of Serena's friends.

He could feel Jeffries glaring at him, ran a hand down his face, and ground out a harsh, "What?"

"Please, tell me I did not see you two...kiss? A lot?" She crossed her arms, her black shirt crinkling a bit and ruching under her black suspenders.

Elliot turned toward her. "So what if you did?" He chewed the inner corner of his lip and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. He shot a look over his shoulder toward Olivia, who was engrossed in a conversation with one of the few people she did know and then turned back to Jeffries. "It doesn't mean…"

"I thought she had a boyfriend," Jeffries interrupted, her thumbs dragging down the elastic of her suspenders. "You said they were, uh, how did you put it?" She pretended to think as she pulled lightly on the straps in her hands. "Pretty fucking serious?" She narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to him. "And weren't you with someone? Someone who, uh, took care of you...every night?" She smirked and shook her head, the gleam in her eyes waffling between anger and betrayal. "So you've been fucking her, that it? You kept pushing me away from her because you were the one? Is this new, or has it been each other the whole fucking time?"

"Mo," Cassidy piped up, pulling the woman back a bit by the bend of her elbow, "Ever think he's just comforting his partner? She just lost her mother, there's a bond there that just fucking disintegrated, right? She might need a bit more from the only other bond like that she's got, huh?"

Elliot exhaled and held up a hand, "No, uh, thanks, man, but…" he thought about it, slowly blinking his eyes. He was still struggling with the shift in his relationship status, figuring it what it meant to be a divorced father of four and the boyfriend of a woman he considered way out of his league. He rubbed two fingers across his forehead and thought better of openly declaring things, because if things went south it'd bring down the entire unit. "Thanks." He nodded at Cassidy, but when he looked at Jeffries, the vile look on her face and the way she shook her head at him told him she didn't buy it.

"Where is he then?" Jeffries asked, slightly calmer but still just as pointed. "He's such a big part of her life, so damn serious about her, shouldn't he be here helping her through this?"

Again Cassidy spoke up. "Christ, girl," he snapped in a whisper. "Ya know, some people do have jobs and can't take the day off for this shit, unless it's their own family. Or maybe he was here this morning, maybe they got into a fight, maybe he works for NASA and he's on Pluto right now, it doesn't matter! It's none of your business, and you shouldn't even be asking shit like that here. We need to be focused on Olivia right now, not where her boyfriend is or if she's fucking her partner, or if she decided to become a nun, so drop it."

Elliot held back a chuckle, but this time his nod of thanks was genuine. An understanding passed between the two men just as Olivia walked back over to the group. "People are, uh, starting to leave. The director needs me to sign a few forms and then he's giving us a few minutes alone with her to…" she took a deep breath, let it out slowly through tightly pursed lips, and said, "Say goodbye." She turned, seeing the way Jeffries was staring at her, and she tried to smile. "Thank you for…"

"No, sweetie, don't thank me," Jeffries interrupted, taking Olivia's hand in hers. "I'm here, whenever you need me, however you need me." She squeezed Olivia's hand and curled her lips into a smile that meant more than she could ever say with words.

Olivia slipped her hand out of Monique's and nodded again, her discomfort well hidden given her current situation. "Um," she looked at Cragen, Cassidy, and then Munch. "We were gonna grab dinner, if you wanted to come with…"

"Yes, of course," Jeffries said first, shooting an almost daring glance at Elliot.

"Okay," a nervous laugh left Olivia's mouth. "The Westway Diner, on Ninth Ave," she glanced behind her at the casket, which seemed to lose most of its shine. "She loved that place."

"If all of you are coming," Elliot did some mental math and then looked at Cragen, "Can you head over and tell them we need a table for twelve?" He licked his lips and took hold of Olivia's hand. "Just tell them you're with the, uh, the Stablers. We already called, so they should…"

"Yeah, son," Cragen said with a sad smile. He gave Elliot a pat on the shoulder and then leaned in to hug Olivia tightly. He backed up and eyed Elliot again. "You take care of her," he pointed to Olivia and then led the rest of his squad out of the viewing room.

Elliot took one last look around, spying Tucker still reading to his son, and he pulled Olivia over to the closed casket. He lifted the framed picture, and he closed his eyes and said a prayer for Serena. He set the photo down again and kissed Olivia's temple. "Go ahead, sweetheart. Talk to her."

She took a shaky breath and placed a hand on top of the varnished wood. "I don't...I don't know what to say, Mom. There's so much. You missed out on a lot of my life, and you're going to miss so much more. We had years of nothing but trouble, but...a few pretty amazing ones. I will always be thankful that you got to meet Elliot and the kids, and that you died knowing...knowing I wasn't alone. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you...you did this to yourself, but I will never be sorry that I am your daughter. I didn't always like you, but...I will always love you." She sniffled and ran her hand along the carved curves of the coffin. She turned her head before the tears could fall onto the casket, and she buried her head in his chest.

He rocked her, soothed her, kissed her softly, ran his hands up and down her back, and in a soft whisper, he told her how much he loved her. When she quieted, he led her out and down the hall into the funeral director's office to sign whatever needed to be signed and handle things for her mother's burial, leaving Bernie and Tucker with the kids.

Bernie had watched it all, and she smiled. "You're not doing anything about that are you?" she asked, giving Tucker a sideways glance.

Tucker turned the page of Dickie's book with a smirk on his face. "Anything about what?"

Bernie chuckled and patted Tucker's knee, and she let out a slow breath, trying to relax before taking her family out to honor Serena's life, if only for Olivia.

 **A/N: After the funeral, what does Olivia decide to do about the man who could be her father?**


	39. Chapter 39

**A/N: ...because even if you're wrong, I'll stand by you.** **(I'll Stand By You - The Pretenders)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

He stayed quiet as he stood at the door of the stairs, wearing a pair of low-slung sweatpants and nothing else. His arms were folded across his bare chest, his eyes trained on Olivia as she unpacked some of her mother's things. He smiled, seeing her run her fingers over photographs and flip through scrapbooks. He could see the pages turn from his angle, and he regretted how much of her life he missed out on because of something silly like not even knowing her.

He grinned when he caught sight of a photo, a part of her life he recognized, but the smile faded just as quickly when he remembered why he was in her life then. Tightening his arms around himself, he frowned and shook his head. He could have saved her years ago.

"You're saving me now," she said to him, closing the album in her hands and looking over her shoulder at him.

He furrowed his brow. "Did I…" he moved closer to her, his bare feet falling soundlessly against the floor. "I said that out loud?"

She nodded, sighing and tossing the scrapbook onto the end table. "You sounded mad."

"I am," he moved closer and slid his palms down her arms, and then dropped them to her hips. "I am so pissed off at myself for not digging deeper with you. I would have taken you away from everything wrong in your life...and in mine." He kissed the back of her head as he closed his eyes and sighed.

She turned in his arms, dropped her head to his chest, and said, "We wouldn't be here if…"

"Right," he said, nodding, moving his hands to her ass. He squeezed and pressed himself against her. "We'd be married, living on some cul de sac in Jersey, no fucking…"

"No Maureen, or Katie, or Lizzie, or Dickie," she listed as she interrupted him. "Things happened the way they were meant to happen. I...I believe that." She lifted her head looked into his eyes. "Just like...I have to believe that it's not a damn coincidence that you find the man could potentially be my father the day before I bury my mother."

He licked his lips and thought for a moment. "Well, I mean the timing is kind of weird, but I told you...I've been looking for…"

"Months," she spoke over him. "I am taking a page out of your book, here, okay? I'm taking this as a sign, maybe my mother...knows that it's him. Maybe this is how I'm supposed to deal with this."

Peering into her eyes, he smoothed his palms in circles over her ass. "Say the word, I'll make the call." He waited, searching her eyes, staring at her face. He gripped her ass again and gave his hips a single thrust.

She scraped her teeth along her lower lip, her body reacting to his physical possessiveness, the way he needed to protect her with every fiber of his being. She craned her neck up and kissed him slowly, her hands moving to the sides of his face. "Okay," she whispered against his lips.

He kissed her, hard, and wrapped her up tighter, lifting her slightly off of her feet. "Okay," he mumbled. He slapped her ass once as he set her back down, and he kissed her slowly just before easing away from her. "I'll call Cragen in the morning, if you're...you're sure you want to do this."

She nodded but leaned into him again, dropping her forehead down to his chest. "I can't live the rest of my life not knowing," she whispered. "You have been talking about us...one day...having kids. I don't think I can be a mother without knowing what…"

"Hey, Kid, don't go there," he warned gently, kissing the top of her head.

"Oh, come on," she snapped in a harsh whisper, pushing away from him. She walked over to the box again, shoving things around in it. "You can't seriously want kids with a woman who's missing half of her fucking life. We need to know if there's a history of mental illness, diabetes, cancer...we need to know if...I really am half monster." She turned to look over her shoulder and her red eyes stared into his. "You need to know everything so could figure out if you could honestly spend the rest of your life with...with someone like me."

He ran to her and pulled her into his arms, kissed her with every ounce of heat and strength in his body, his tongue delving in and trying to reach through to her soul. He gripped her tighter and shook his head fervently as he kissed her. "I know," he panted, "Everything I need to know. I want you, for the rest of my life. I want a hundred kids with you. I'm not worried about you being half anything because I know who you are, genetics didn't do shit, baby. You made yourself who you are." He brushed her hair back. "If that's the only reason you want to meet this…"

"It's not," she shook her head and sniffled. "I need to know, too. I need to be sure that…"

"Okay, baby," he nodded, brushing a thumb over her lips. He kissed her again and whispered, "Tomorrow. We do this." He bent his knees and lifted her into his arms, his lips still moving against hers. He moved with her toward the stairs, cradling and kissing her as he slowly and blindly climbed them. He carried her down the hall and into the bedroom, kissing her still. He kid her gently on the bed, crawled over her, and with one arm he grabbed the quilt and pulled it over them.

She kissed him back, eagerly, deeply, slowly. And when she felt him sink into her, she let herself relax. He was right. Nothing mattered other than who she had become in spite of her past, and her future lies with him, she could feel it.

He pulled back and nuzzled her, and he whispered, "We should get some sleep." He brushed his nose against hers, kissed her again, and pulled her closer as he snuggled into the bend of her neck. "Everything is...everything is gonna be fine, Kid." He dropped a kiss to her collarbone and closed his eyes.

She wrapped herself around him and listened to his slow, even breathing, letting him lull her to sleep.

The morning came too quickly, the alarm rousing them before they were ready. They got the kids dressed, fed, and out the door fast, and on their way to work they rode through the drive-thru of their favorite coffee place. It was a blessedly normal morning after a week that had been pure hell.

It was the first time they felt at ease, smiling, even though they knew something more intense was heading their way. He parked the car and sighed, took a long sip of his coffee, and looked across the console. "We don't...we don't have to go in there. This can wait, we can take some time…"

"I took all the time I needed," she said, sipping her own latte. She leaned over and kissed him. "Come on." She got out of the car and walked without waiting for him, pushing the door to the precinct open, and sipping her coffee as she flashed her badge to the security guard and veered left to climb the stairs.

She slowed her pace when she heard the footsteps on the stone behind her and she turned around when she reached the landing. She was waiting for him, her hand resting on the latch, but she tilted her head when, instead of guiding her through the door, he leaned in slowly and kissed her.

"I hate walking in there," he breathed, "Because it means...for God knows how long, I have to pretend I'm not crazy about you, and I can't kiss you when I want, and when that son of a bitch gets brought down here and you look at him...I'm not gonna be able to hold you, get you through it the way I…" he paused, licked his lips, and shook his head. "Well, the way we both know I'm going to, anyway." He kissed her again.

She smiled at him and nodded, then pushed the door open. It was something she immediately regretted once the chaotic noises hit her ears. Phones ringing, people chattering, a woman's crying filtering into the hall from inside the bullpen.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose as he walked with her. "What the hell is…"

"Liv!" Jeffries was on her feet and sprinting toward them, practically pushing Elliot away and throwing her arms around Olivia. "How are you holding up?" She pulled back a bit and looked into her eyes.

Olivia pulled away completely, nodding as she sipped her coffee. "Fine," she said, trying to smile. "I'm fine."

Jefferies folded her arms over her red button down, eyeing Olivia carefully. Her suit hugged every curve perfectly, the shirt was untucked and moved whenever Olivia breathed: rising and falling slightly, tightening around her chest just a bit. She licked her lips and cleared her throat, leaning back on Elliot's desk. "Did you get everything settled with your lawyers? The bank?"

Olivia nodded, sliding past Jeffries to get to her desk. She sipped her coffee and looked over at Elliot, who was glaring at Jefferies as he pulled his chair out. She stifled her laugh as she spoke. "Yeah, the, uh, the Will was pretty solid. Everything is a high-security account and," she licked her lips and rubbed her forehead, "She actually set aside something for the kids. They're...not even…" she swallowed hard as she looked down at her desk and shook her head again.

"Hey," Elliot spat, "Can you move your ass so I can do my job?" He pulled on Jeffries shirt and gave her a harsh glare. He lowered his voice and gripped her arm a bit harder. "And stop hitting on her."

Jeffries chuckled and brushed his hand off of her, turned, and walked backward toward her desk, her eyes glued to Olivia.

Elliot scoffed and shook his shoulders as he sat, and he scratched his head. "What, uh, what have we got, other than…" he looked at Olivia, "That, uh, cold case we're cracking?"

Munch dropped his head a bit, looking over his glasses at Elliot. "Nothing," he said. "Absolutely nothing. We got three complaints, but Devlin, Michaelson, and Sanders took 'em. Cassidy has been in Cragen's office for an hour, and Tucker's on his way down here with some shrink on the payroll."

"Oh, fuck," Elliot griped. "Department reviews." He dragged a hand down his face. "Me and Liv...we don't need…"

"Not you two," Tucker's voice exclaimed as he walked into the squadroom. "Under the circumstances, it's clear that any evaluation would be, um, tarnished by your current emotional states. Especially given what's happening here, today, am I right?"

Elliot had swiveled around in his chair to look at Tucker and he nodded. "Thanks," he said, his eyes closing and opening slowly. "I mean it, Eddie. Thank you. For everything."

Tucker nodded back at Elliot, then moved, leading a department shrink toward Cragen's office.

Olivia watched it all happen, then tossed a pencil at her partner, whipping him in the shoulder. When he turned to her, glaring with an amused smirk on his face, she asked, "What's that about?"

"Tucker, uh, he's the reason we got the guy," he cleared his throat. "The man who could be…" he coughed and he waved a hand. "Tucker made a few calls and made sure he'd be in this room, today." He lowered his voice and leaned over a bit, smiling slightly as he got a peek at the slightly purple skin under her collar, remnants from his assault on her neck in the shower. He smoothed down his tie, chuckling at the fact that once again his tie matched her shirt. "He didn't tell anyone who it was, only that it was a suspect in a cold case. You don't even need to really be here, if...I mean, your DNA is in the system, we could have the lab run tests and you don't even have to meet the asshole, unless he really is...your father."

She nodded and smiled softly at him, turning the cup in her hand around on her desk. "Thanks," she said, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this. You didn't have to...do...any of this. You've been so fucking wonderful through this shit with my mother, and…"

"I love you," he whispered, nodding at her. "That means I did exactly what I had to do. It's my job, as your partner." He winked at her. "Because I am your partner, in every way possible."

"Yeah, you are," she said with a laugh, and then she averted her eyes, sending a glance in Jeffries' direction. "She seems a bit more aggressive lately," she told him.

"Yeah, well, now she knows that I'm the guy she thinks she's competing with," he replied. "She's trying to get me pissed off to the point where I do something stupid and get myself suspended, or fired, or some shit." He shook his head and sipped the last of his coffee. "Not gonna work, so don't look at me like that."

She rolled her eyes and laughed again, and then narrowed her eyes at Cragen's door. "What do you think's going on in there?"

"Cassidy's only been here a couple weeks," Elliot said with a light shrug, "Could be the standard rookie shit, signing forms he didn't submit, or giving the run down on the…"

He was stopped when Cragen's door opened. Cassidy walked out, buttoning his jacket, and headed straight for Olivia and Elliot. "You two, uh, got a vic at Saint Mary's. Cragen said you can hand it off to me if you…"

"No, uh," Olivia shot up, suddenly quite eager to get to work. "We got it, thanks." She took the yellow slip of paper from Cassidy and grabbed her jacket. "Why were you in there for so…"

"Oh, uh," Cassidy pouted and shook his head, "Just some clerical bullshit is all. You sure you want to do this? I mean, you're ready?"

She stared at him blankly, wondering how he could have known, if Cragen had told him. "What?"

Cassidy tried to smile. "Are you ready to get back to work? I mean, the funeral was yesterday, I know you should probably be home in bed with Ben and Jerry, but you're…"

"Oh," Olivia gave a small smile as she looked down. "I'm fine, thanks." She looked up at Elliot. "You good?"

Elliot nodded, standing. He pulled on his jacket and followed Olivia out of the squadroom, knowing they'd need to stop on the way to the hospital to give the lab a head's up, and prepare for the truth, one way or another.

 **A/N: After the funeral, what does Olivia decide to do about the man who could be her father?**


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: And do what you always do; Making the old so new; Taking away the space between us.** **(The Space Between Us-Shawn McDonald)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"So, that's it," Elliot sighed, the corner of his bottom lip wedged between his his teeth. He ran a rough hand down his face, grimacing as he skidded over thick stubble, reminding him that they'd been at work for too damn long. "You okay?" he looked across the desk at his partner.

She either didn't hear him or was ignoring him, choosing instead to focus on the sheet of paper in her trembling hands. The numbers and decimal points on the page would be nothing more than nonsense to anyone else, but to her, they were quite literally the missing pieces to her life. She shook her head, her voice finally cracking under pressure as it croaked out a dry and pained, "No." One hand shot to her mouth, catching the beginning and end of a sob, and she coughed once before swallowed hard. "This is...this is just…"

"I know, Kid," he whispered, and he got out of his rolling chair and walked toward her. He knelt beside her, grabbed the sides of her chair, and spun her to face him. Without saying anything, without worrying about consequences or what people would think or say, he tilted his head and caught her as she fell into him. He had expected her to cry, but he felt her relax, heard her sigh, and he closed his eyes as she tightened his hold on her.

She, too, had her eyes closed, her chin resting on his shoulder, and she took a much-needed deep breath and whispered, "It's over."

"How do you feel?" he asked softly, "Talk to me, what are you...I mean, this is a lot, Kid." He pushed her back a bit to look into her eyes. She couldn't lie or hide anything if he looked into her eyes.

She shrugged, licked her lips, and flapped the paper around for a moment. "Now, I know she didn't lie to me," she scoffed. "You read his file, right? You said he's not crazy he's just…"

"A fucking asshole," he spat, rising to his feet. "I had them pull every record they could on him, it's all…" he gnawed on the inside of his cheek and held an open palm out, indicating a thick folder on her desk. "It's all there, if you...I mean, you don't even have to meet the son of a bitch, if you…"

"No, I think...I think I do," she said with a firm nod. "He's in there, right?" She stood fast, her eyes trained on the hallway leading toward the interrogation rooms.

Elliot nodded, running one hand over her shoulder. "Yeah, uh, he's in there. With Tucker. Apparently, uh, running his DNA got hits on three open cases, so…" he cleared his throat again, blinked once, and held her gaze as his own eyes darkened and a small smirk threatened his lips. "Baby, we got him."

She nodded at him, licked her lips, dropped the print-out of the DNA comparison that confirmed what she'd needed to know for almost thirty years, and she smoothed down the shirt that remained untucked. She moved, but only a step, and then turned to him. Her eyes did what she couldn't do; they pleaded with him to walk with her, stay with her.

Wordlessly, he stepped up to her and guided her down the hall, which seemed to be darker and more foreboding now. He pushed open the door to the box, the space between the hall and the cold, stone room where Tucker had been talking to the man they were now sure was Olivia's father. He stopped her just before the second door, looking through the two-way glass, and he inhaled slowly, composing himself. "I was right," he chuckled.

"What?" she whispered, staring at the man hunched over the metal table, clearly unnerved by what Tucker was saying.

Elliot looked at her, shrugged once, and said, "I really don't know whether to thank him or kill him." He winked at her, watching her give him a small smile, and he rested a hand on the brass knob that would end nearly three decades of uncertainty.

She gave him a small nod and when he opened the door, Tucker immediately stood up straight, darting his eyes toward the doorway as she walked through it, into the small room. She pressed her lips together and nodded once, and then turned toward the man in the chair.

The man popped his head up. "Look, I already copped to this shit, how many more of you people do I need to talk to before you lock me up?"

Olivia felt sick to her stomach, watching him speak, noticing he moved his lips the same way she did. "Just me," she said smugly, and she took a step closer to him as she tapped her badge. "Detective Benson." She took another step. "Detective Olivia Benson," she repeated, with narrower eyes and a tighter smile. "My mother is...was…" she hated the change in tense, and felt her stomach lurch again, "Serena Benson."

The man gasped, his eyes widened, and he seemed to lose much of the color in his face. His legs began to bounce, his fingers twitched, and he licked his lips as he said, "When..when were you...um, born?"

"Oh, you don't need specifics," Olivia said, perching herself on the corner of the metal table, "That look on your face tells me you already know, don't you?" She tilted her head and she chewed on her lip for a moment. "Funny. I spent half my life planning what I would say to you when this happened, and now...now I can't think of a single thing to say."

Tucker leaned over and whispered, "Let him fucking have it, Benson," and nodded once.

She chuckled and then glanced over her shoulder, if only to make sure Elliot was there, and she took another breath. "You...you were the source of everything wrong in her life. The reason she had nightmares, the reason she looked over her shoulder constantly and needed to sleep with the lights on and a knife on her nightstand. You were the reason she drank, the reason she couldn't stand to look at me...she hated me, because I look like you. I can see that, now." Her eyes were daggers, narrow and sharp, and she held her composure as though she was talking to any other perp. "She wasn't enough, you took the hope for a normal life away from seven other women."

He was still trembling, sweating bullets as he said, "Well, no one says 'no' to me, they should've just…" he jumped as Olivia's fist slammed down on the table in front of him. He stared at her, stunned, and briefly wondered how a child he had fathered could have grown up to be the person that would put him behind bars for her conception. "She should have!" he snapped, and then softened slightly. "We could have been together, I would have...I would have been good to her, to you. We could have been…"

"Please, don't say the word 'family," she hissed, rolling her eyes.

He blinked rapidly and shook his head. "I mean it, I love her." He sniffled. "All of them, I loved them, but they...they wouldn't love me. I was patient, I was nice, I was charming, I was everything they needed! Your mother...Serena was the first, my first love. She was so beautiful, so smart, and when I asked her if I could walk her home that night, she said no." His eyes darkened. "She said she was meeting someone, another guy, well…" he scoffed and smirked wickedly. "I guess I just had to prove to her that she shouldn't have been walking home alone." He turned his head away. "I offered to walk her home every night after that, but she wouldn't even answer me. She never spoke to me again. She didn't talk to anyone! She shut herself down, over what?"

Olivia's eyes watered, tears filling and falling on their own. "Over the fact that you ripped away her sense of reality, her ability to trust, any semblance of safety or independence she ever had! You ripped away everything she was that night, and she became this shell of a person with the inability to love anything that didn't come out of a bottle!" She was on her feet, leaning over, and she stared into his eyes. "The woman you claim you loved? You killed her that night! It took her almost thirty years to realize I was nothing like you, snap herself out of the fog you left her in, and just when we finally reach a stable space...the mere memory of you and what you did to her killed her all over again."

The man felt his breath ahlt, his lungs burn. "She...Serena, she's…"

"Dead," Olivia nodded once as the word left her mouth like an acid drop. "She drank to forget you, to forget that I exist because of you, and she…" she shook her head and turned away from him. "She's gone. And now? So are you." She pulled herself away from the table and blew past Elliot, into the box, through its doors, and out into the sqaudroom. She ignored his voice calling for her, ignored his footsteps behind her, and ran toward her desk. She picked up the thick folder and opened it, her chest heaving with ragged breaths as she flipped through its pages, discovering things about her father and in turn, new things about herself. "Joe," she said with a grunt, and she threw a bitter smile over her shoulder at Elliot. "His name's Joseph?"

Elliot licked his lips as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Guess it's in the name," he said with a small shrug. "Guys named Joe are drunk assholes."

She turned her attention back to the file. "He was a chess champion," she noted, "He was part of the Brooklyn Youth Symphony, played the cello." She scanned the pages of his background check, his education and employment history, his medical records, and she asked in a whisper, "How did you get all of this?"

"Called in a few favors," he said nonchalantly, moving closer to her. "Once we had a name and confirmed he was your father…" he exhaled and rested both of his hands on her shoulders. "Once a marine, always a marine. They ran every check under the sun and faxed all the shit to us as soon as they got it."

She leaned back into him and turned the pages in her hands. "He was smart," she said, as if it surprised her. "Top of his class at Hudson, graduated Salutatorian."

"You were the valedictorian," he said to her quietly. "You got him beat."

Letting out a short laugh, she turned the page again. "Got his degree in economics, career on Wall Street...lost it, and then couldn't hold down a job because of his temper." She sighed. "Guess I know where I get that from, now, huh?"

He let his hands slip away from her and walked around her to look into her eyes. "I told you...genetics doesn't matter. Not as much as you…"

"It does," she interrupted, and she looked back down at the folder. "Guess we don't have to worry about those kids you wanna have," she said with a small, hesitant grin. "Other than being a complete dick, he's perfectly healthy, and comes from a long line of non-smoking people who lived well into their nineties." She heaved a sigh of relief and said, "Whenever you wanna start, there's nothing…"

"Are you...are you serious?" There was a light in his eyes and a smile that took up his whole face. "I mean, I know we should maybe take things a bit…"

"This what was holding me back," she cut him off again, her eyes focused on the file. "Not knowing what I would be passing down, wondering if I would end up just like her, incapable of loving a child, but…" she sniffled, feeling the sting behind her nose warning her of another bout of tears. "I love your kids, so fucking much, and I want…" she blinked. "I'm not like her, I would be having a baby that is so wanted, so loved, by both of its parents, and it wouldn't be…"

"I would give anything to kiss you right now," he whispered, and he took the file out of her hands and closed it. "We should, uh, maybe get back to work before Cragen…"

"Cragen knows what was going on in there," Cragen's voice broke in, and he chuckled when Olivia and Elliot turned and looked sheepishly at him. "I'm actually impressed, neither of you slugged him." He nodded and said, "I need the 'Five on the Garret case on my desk before you leave...which you can do as soon as it's done." He looked at Olivia. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded as she exhaled.

Monique Jeffries watched the scene unfold with narrow eyes. She followed Olivia's movements to her desk, watched her sit and set off on typing out the information on the case. She licked her lips, noticing the way her shirt crinkled when her arms and hands moved, the way her eyes darted from her notebook to the computer screen. She swallowed a forming lump in her throat as she glanced back at Elliot, glaring at him as he sat reading the file on Olivia's father. She sneered and then turned her attention toward her own computer screen, watching the search run. There was one thing Elliot hadn't found out about Joe Hollister, and she was determined to give Olivia the last missing bit of information.

Jeffries grinned as her monitor beeped, and she finally had something to give Olivia that Elliot couldn't. She narrowed her eyes as she whispered to herself, "She has a brother."

 **A/N: Was Olivia serious about having a baby, or was it her emotions running high? How will Jeffries tell Olivia she has a brother? And what's going on with Elliot and Kathy...and the kids?**


	41. Chapter 41

**A/N: And do what you always do; Making the old so new; Taking away the space between us.** **(The Space Between Us-Shawn McDonald)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"This was the most incredible night we've had in a long time," she said softly. Her head was resting on his chest as they snuggled together, laying flattened out on the couch.

He was running his fingers through her hair, twisting her waves into curls around his fingers. One of his legs was hooked over both of hers. "We had dinner, helped the kids with their homework, and now we're watching some documentary about penguins," he listed dryly, wondering what she thought had been so incredible about their evening.

She laughed and wriggled around, making herself more comfortable while at the same time, knowingly rubbing against him in a way that made him growl softly. She bit her lip for a moment, feeling his hands move lower on her body. "I know," she sighed, shivering as his fingers hooked into the band of her sweats. "That's what I mean. It was normal...and it was the first night in weeks I didn't…"

He stopped her with a kiss, a silent but deeply passionate one, and his hand worked its way into her pants completely. He moaned against her mouth as he stroked her waxed, wet, hot flesh. "Shh," he hushed as she opened her mouth, silencing whatever protesting complaint she would have given him.

With her left hand, she reached up and grabbed the knitted wool blanket and pulled it over them, using her right to smooth up the fabric of his tee shirt. Her nails grazed his nipples and he bucked his body in response, forcing a finger into her and his growing erection to press into her side. She shifted, moving over him, and she smirked against his lips. "Eager, aren't you?"

He nodded as he kissed her again, his grin matching hers, and he whispered something against her lips that made her freeze. His eyes widened and he pulled back from her. "Unless...unless you weren't...you weren't serious."

Her eyes were driving into his, losing their brown in his blue, and she remembered to breathe just before it became painful. "I was, but I didn't think…" she sat up a bit and ran a hand through her hair. "Now? I mean, you said you thought we needed to wait...we'd be rushing into things." She peered down at him as she straddled him, her palms on his chest; she could feel his heart beating beneath her fingers. "You haven't even been divorced for a whole month, yet, and you just said you…"

"We were halfway to this point before I got divorced," he said, and he reached up to cup her face, his thumbs stroked under her eyes, "But if you'd rather wait, give us time to…"

"We need to wait," she interrupted, "Because I'm still on the pill. Even if we tried, well," she chuckled, "It wouldn't happen tonight." She tilted her head. The seriousness in his expression made her heart skip a beat and for the first time in her life, the flight or fight response to commitment didn't kick in when she thought of being someone's wife, someone's mother. "You want me to stop taking them, don't you?"

His answer was a small smile as he curled his hands around the back of her head and neck and pulled her down to him. He kissed her slowly, arching his back slightly and thrusting his hips upward. He knew she was right, that things had to settle before turning their world upside down again, but part of him felt the need for immediate gratification, as if having a baby would solidify their bond and ensure that she'd never leave him. He realized his kiss had become fervent and possessive, and he pulled back breathlessly and offered a smaller, lighter kiss as an apology.

She raked her nails through his short hair and nuzzled her nose against his. "We should...we should talk to the kids. They've been through a lot, too, ya know. This isn't just about what's going to make us happy, we need to…"

"God, you're right," he breathed, closing his eyes. "I guess I just thought...since they haven't seemed upset or moody, that they were...fine." He sat up and wrapped his arms around her, kissed her again, and looked over his shoulder toward the stairs. "Hey!" he yelled loudly. "Anyone who wants ice cream should get down here!"

Olivia laughed, throwing her head back. "Ice cream?" she questioned on a chuckle.

He grinned as he spoke. "Softens them up, Kid," he said with a wink. He heard the trampling feet of his children and their excited voices babbling about cherries and chocolate sauce. He cleared his throat and hid the smirk as all four tiny faces turned slowly to look at him. "In here, for a minute, before the ice cream."

One by one, the kids strolled further into the living room and sat on the couch, their shirt legs swinging in the air as they leaned back. "What's wrong, Daddy?" Maureen asked, folding her hands in her lap.

Elliot squinted. "Nothing, Pumpkin, why would…"

"The last two times we had a family meeting, something was wrong," Kathleen said before he could finish. "Are you and Liv getting a divorce like you and Mom?"

Elliot's heart shattered at both the question and its innocence. "No, Sweetheart." He moved to allow Olivia to slide off of his lap and straightened himself up. He looked at each of his children, spotting how each one seemed to look like him with Kathy's blonde hair. Each one had an equal piece of his heart and soul, and he would do anything and everything for them. "Guys, uh," he licked his lips as he reached over and grabbed Olivia's hand. He squeezed it tighter than he'd planned to, not realizing how suddenly nervous he was. "We need to know...how you all feel about...everything."

"I don't like broccoli." Dickie declared this firmly with folded arms.

Olivia's free hand shot to her mouth and she stifled her laugh as best she could. "Not...not really everything, Sweetie, everything that's happened here at home."

Dickie scrunched up his little face. "Huh?"

Elliot exhaled. "Are you guys okay with not...not living with Mommy? How do you feel, now that your mother and I aren't married anymore? ANd how do you feel about...about Liv being here with me...the, uh, the way Mom was before?"

Maureen looked at her siblings, unfolded her hands, and gripped the cushion of the couch as she took the chance to speak for all of them. "We know you and Mom weren't happy, and now you are, right?"

"Yes, very," Elliot said with a smile. "But my question is...are you guys happy?"

Kathleen raised her hand out of habit, and when Olivia nodded at her, she said, "No one fights anymore. No one goes to bed angry, and we...we love you, Liv. We do a lot of things together, things we never did with Mom, and Daddy's always happy when you're around."

Maureen nodded, agreeing with her younger sister. "She's right," she said. "And Mom's easier to get along with now, too. When we stay with her, she's not complaining, or too tired to play with us."

Elliot shot Olivia a look and then leaned closer to his children. "Guys, uh, how would you feel if...not right now, but pretty soon...if there was a new baby in our house?"

"I'd get to be a big sister?" Lizzie asked, pushing her large, round glasses up higher on her face.

"Yeah, Muchkin," Elliot said, stretching out an arm to tap her nose. "Is that...I mean, would that be okay with you?"

The girls all giggled and nodded but Dickie looked pensive and almost sad. Olivia cocked her head to the side. "Dickie, Honey, would having a baby around bother you?"

Dickie looked up at her. "Are Dad and Mom having a baby?" he asked, and then he unfolded his arms. "Or is it you and Dad?"

Olivia scraped her teeth over her lip and tried to pull her hand out of Elliot's, but his grip was intense and she couldn't free her fingers.

"Me and Liv," Elliot said, "We, um...we would like to know how you all would feel if...soon...Liv and I got married, had a baby, one that would only make this family bigger, okay? It wouldn't change how we feel about you, or how much we love you, and it wouldn't mean that you have to all go live with your mother."

Maureen smiled at her father. "You and Liv really wanna get married? Like in the princess movies?" She clapped her hands together and got a dreamy look on her face.

"Can we help pick out the dress?" Kathleen asked, her eyes wide.

Lizzie piped up with a cheerful question of her own. "Can we help pick out the cake?"

Only Dickie still looked to be contemplating something that seemed to confuse his six year old brain. "Are you going to start fighting all the time? If you get married, will you spend all your time at work again? Away from us?"

"Oh, kiddo," Elliot moved fast, picking up his son and putting him on his lap. "No, sport, I promise. I didn't realize you...you saw what was going on with me and your mother, but we couldn't be married anymore. We didn't love each other anymore, and that's why I worked so much. ANd I work with Liv, remember? We will always come home, I always, always want to be with you. All of you." He smiled. "And Liv."

"If you promise," the boy mumbled, and then slowly lifted his head to look at his father. He smiled, nodded, and said, "I guess it'd be cool to be a big brother."

Elliot laughed and hugged his son tightly. "It's gonna be really cool," he said, and he ushered his son off of his lap. "Now, we really need ice cream."

The kids all hopped off the couch and ran into the kitchen, taking turns pulling things out of the refrigerator. Maureen pulled open the freezer side door and grabbed the gallon of ice cream and plopped it down on the table. "Wait, it's almost bedtime, and we get to have ice cream?"

Elliot chuckled at his daughter as he closed the freezer she'd left open, and he dropped a kiss to her forehead on the way to grab some bowls. "You don't have school tomorrow, we can stay up a bit later." He looked over at Olivia and met her smile with his. "It feels like an ice cream kinda night," he said, and he dropped the bowls down onto the table with a few spoons, helped his kids scoop and serve, and then lifted one of the finished sundaes into his hands. Slowly, he walked over to Olivia and scooped up some ice cream with whipped cream and sprinkles, and then held the spoon in front of her.

She held his gaze as she ate the ice cream, deliberately letting her mouth slide slowly off the spoon, licking her lips when she was done.

"Wicked," he whispered, glaring and smirking at her. "Wicked woman. Just wait till these little guys are in bed, I am gonna…"

"You're letting them eat ice cream," she told him with a playfully coy shrug, "They're not going to sleep anytime soon."

He leaned in, dragging the back of the spoon across her lips, and he kissed away the trail of ice cream it had left behind. "Yeah, they will," he kissed her again. "My kids don't get a sugar rush, they just crash. Why do you think I even…" He didn't get to finish his sentence. He laughed against her lips as he blindly spooned up more ice cream for her, and he watched her eat it as a slow, hard throb built in his groin. "Fuck me," he hissed, pulling at his now uncomfortable sweatpants.

"When the kids go to sleep," she said, and she winked at him as she turned the spoon around, making him eat the sweet treat. She caught her lip between her teeth as he gave her a seductive look as he swallowed, and she moved to kiss him again, but the doorbell rang, breaking them apart. "Who the hell is…"

"Stay put," he interrupted, kissing her once. He set their shared bowl down into her palms and walked toward the front door, hoping like hell it wasn't another surprise visit from Cragen. He looked through the peep-hole, rolled his eyes, and almost walked away without opening the door. With an irritated huff, he yanked on the knob. "What the hell do you want?" he snapped at their visitor.

Monique Jeffries smirked at him as she waved a file at him. "I got something I think your little girlfriend needs to see. I would have gone right to her apartment, but I thought you...you needed to see it first." Her smirk faded, and she handed him the folder as the laughter from the kitchen hit her ears. "Your kids are still up?"

"It's Friday," he said, opening the folder, "And it's only nine…" he stopped when he realized what he was looking at, and he popped his head up. "You actually ran her through the system?"

"No, I ran her father through it," she corrected, "And I didn't want to tell her unless you…"

He shoved the file back into her chest roughly. "Shit, she's here! Are you out of your mind?"

"What is she doing…" Jeffries looked at him, tilted her head, and clicked her tongue. "You're really in over your head, aren't you? You know Cragen's gonna skin your ass if he finds out that this is serious."

Elliot rubbed his forehead. "Cragen knows, okay? He's just...ignoring it, until he can't anymore. Look," he dropped his hand and looked over his shoulder. "You need to go," he turned back to face her. "I'm not telling her about this right now, she's been through enough. I'm not…"

"You can't keep this from her!" Monique hissed, eying him angrily. "If you love her, you'll tell her before I do."

"I will," he spat in a harsh whisper. "Not tonight, not...not yet. Just…"

"The kids are actually washing the dishes," Olivia's voice chirped as she walked up behind Elliot. "Who's at the…" she paused, seeing Jeffries, and she folded her arms. "Hi."

Elliot didn't even turn to look at Olivia, he stayed in his spot, staring threateningly at Monique. "She was just handing off information that, uh, involved a case of ours."

"And she couldn't pick up the phone?" Olivia questioned skeptically. She took a step forward, almost defensively leaning into Elliot.

"My, uh, phone died," Jeffries said with a smile. "I was in the area, the, uh, girl I'm seeing lives a few blocks away, so I just...popped over to tell you what...what I know." She shrugged and said, "You have the information, okay? Do what you're gonna do with it, I'll…" she looked at Olivia, for the first in a while seeing traces of happiness. "I'll stay out of it." She smiled again and waved. "Have a nice night, guys," she said, and she walked back down the steps before she could let herself do something stupid.

Olivia watched her get into her car and then looked at Elliot. "What information? What case?"

Elliot closed the door and turned, taking her hands in his, and he kissed her softly. "Nothing we need to worry about on out night off, okay?" He kissed her again and whispered, "Now, let's get the minions into bed so that, uh, I can get you into bed." He wagged his eyebrows at her and his heart filled with love at the sound of her laughter.

He knew he needed to tell her, and he was grateful that Jeffries had given the job to him, but tonight...he had other plans.

 **A/N: What plans? What does he say when he tells her? And how to they deal with an unexpected visit at work...from Kathy?**


	42. Chapter 42

**A/N:** **I'm still up, and it's 3 in the morning. I try to sleep but my mind keeps going** **(The Space Between Us-Shawn McDonald)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

As she brought the mug of hot, black coffee to her lips, her eyes closed; the way he felt inside of her, his powerful thrusts and sweet kisses, his low growls and whispered obscenities...they seared themselves into the forefront of her mind.

He always knew when to move faster without her telling him, his body slowed exactly when she needed it to; he pulled her hair and grazed his hands over her tingling body at the perfect moments. He made her cum harder, faster, more often than any other lover she'd ever had, and she gave it all back to him ten fold. They were perfect together.

She moaned as she sipped her coffee again, but it was nothing to do with the drink. She licked her lips, unwilling to open her eyes, because she needed to live in the moment a while longer. Something was different about tonight, she felt. They'd loved each other as though it would be the last night they ever would. With a sigh, her eyes blinked open, her left hand moved from her mug to her silk robe, over her stomach. She moaned again, the ache residing under her palm telling her that she could still feel him, right there. "Damn it, Stabler," she hissed in a whisper, and her other hand worked through her wavy hair.

She sighed again as she slid off the tall kitchen bench, grabbing the now-empty mug, and she toed over to the sink. As she rinsed the mug out, she tried to find a reason for it all. Why would he tell the kids to expect a wedding and a baby? Was it his way of coping with his divorce? Was he simply baiting her into a false sense of security because he thought it's what she wanted? She knew, and she was certain he had figured it out, that there were parts of her life he couldn't handle. No one could. It's why, she had convinced herself, that no other man had stuck around for too long.

Her mug plopped into the drying rack near the sink, and she turned with another sigh. Her arms folded over themselves as she bit her lip and stared at a broken floor tile. She let out a single chuckle. "Of course," she mumbled, figuring that ceramic floors were fitting for a guy like him, who had a life that, until a year ago, she wasn't a part of, she hadn't ruined it yet. Her eyes rolled upward, toward the ceiling, above which she knew he was still in the bed, naked, asleep, oblivious to the fact that she was awake at Three AM reevaluating the life he had just convinced her he wanted.

She took a few steps toward the living room, hearing her mother's voice in her ears. _Don't run,_ Serena told her, _Not this time, not from him, he's the one you've been waiting for, he's the one that's worth it._

Olivia smiled sadly and raked her nails through her hair again. Her mother always knew how to make bad situations worse, so why, in death, did she suddenly become the voice of reason and support she should have been all along? Olivia dropped into the corner seat of the couch, pulled her knees up and rested her chin in the dip between them, and closed her eyes again.

She thought about Kathy, how easily her name came to mind now, when for so long it wasn't even important enough to her to remember what letter it started with. She sent out a telepathic apology; maybe she should have been more professional, more standoffish. Her eyes popped open at that thought. She had tried, but there was something about Elliot, from the moment they met, an inexplicable connection to him that made keeping her distance impossible.

"Shit," she chuckled. Her mother was right. She was running, only because it's what she'd always done, because it's what she felt she had to do to keep herself safe. With a fire in her eyes she wished someone was there to see, she shot up off the couch and ran back up the stairs, as quickly and as quietly as possible. She pushed the bedroom door open slowly, wincing when it creaked, and she untied her robe.

The silk fell to the floor as she moved toward the bed, and once she pressed herself down into the mattress beside Elliot, she wrapped her arms around him and dropped a soft kiss to his back, right between his shoulder blades.

"Mmm," he moaned, squinting his closed eyes as he rolled over, "Baby?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to…" his lips cut off her apology, her laugh hit his mouth as her arms looped around his neck.

He nuzzled against her as he pulled her closer, finding his way between her legs with a chuckle. "I was already awake," he confessed, "But now, I am definitely...up." He kissed her again as he slid into her slowly and fully, her tightness always amazing, the fit always perfect.

She whimpered, not expecting this, but certainly not complaining or stopping him. "I feel safe with you," she whispered, voicing the admission to herself that snapped her out of her moment of doubt and panic. "I love you," she told him as he thrust.

"God, baby," he said, though his words were muffled by her lips, "I love you." He pulled out of her slowly and just as timely, thrust back in, looking into her eyes. "I will always keep you safe. I promise." He kissed her again, moving faster, filling her deeper. He gripped her and rolled onto his back, then held her hips as she rode him. His eyes darted from her chest to her hazy gaze, to her lips, and back again. His hands slipped up her sides and cupped her breasts, and then toyed with her nipples. He watched her face as he rolled her beaded buds between his fingers, pinched them, pulled them, bringing her closer faster because he wasn't going to last much longer.

"Elliot," she breathed, her hands flying on top of his. She moaned when it only made him grip harder, hike his body upward faster, and she was lost to him.

His eyes widened as he watched her entire body tighten, her back arch, her head drop back. He felt her pulsating around him, making him grunt as he came. He growled a version of her name he never used before, feeling her hot wetness slip down his throbbing cock and onto his thighs. "Jesus Christ," he whispered, pulling her down to him and kissing her fast, thrusting once more to ride out a single, intense, aftershock.

Her head curled into the crook of his neck, her lips kissed every bit of skin there that they could, and she smiled as she panted, letting out a truly happy laugh. "I just wanted to cuddle and go back to sleep," she teased, rocking her hips once.

He chuckled as he gripped her ass tightly, keeping her full against him, and he whispered, "We can cuddle now," and he rubbed his forehead against the top of her head. They were quiet for a moment, still, calming each other with soft fingertip-trails. "Sleep, babe," he mumbled, his hands tangled in her hair.

As they'd unfortunately always expected, their cell phones rang. His first, ringing two and half times before hers, and they let out matching disappointed groans as they reached for their respective cells. "Benson," she spat, hearing his last name hit her ears as he answered his own call. She whipped her head back, getting the damp hair out of her eyes, and seethed silently as she shifted herself off of Elliot.

"Yeah," Elliot exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm on it. I'll get her, it's fine. Yeah, Cap. Thanks."

Olivia padded over to the closet, tilting her head as she half-listened to what Jeffries was saying. She couldn't remember exactly when the left half officially became hers. She tugged a pair of pants off of a hanger and said, "Yeah, uh, he told me everything. Thanks, though," she said dryly. "Bye."

"Jeffries?" he asked knowingly, coming up behind her and kissing the top of her right shoulder.

She nodded as she reached up and tugged two shirts off of their hangers. She chuckled, realizing they matched, and handed one to him as she said, "She figured that you telling me...what she told you...would cause some kind of fight. She wanted to know if I needed to crash at her place and, uh, cry on her shoulder."

"Fuck that," he said, kissing her neck as he shoved his arms into his shirt. "You cry on anyone, it's me." He kissed her cheek, then took hold of her chin with three fingers, looked into her eyes, and kissed her lips softly. "And I'm the only one who knows how to dry your tears."

She smiled and kissed him again, then said, "I didn't cry," she laughed, and she pulled on her black pants. "I'm honestly not that surprised. He made a habit out of raping the women who turned him down, I figured my mother wasn't the only one that ended up pregnant." She zipped up her slacks and turned toward him as she buttoned her shirt. "It doesn't affect me. Not...not really."

He moved in for a kiss, cupping her cheeks, and slowly pulled away before saying, "That was her plan, ya know. To make you think I was keeping it from you."

"You were going to," she reminded him, moving toward the side of the bedroom and pulling open a drawer. She grabbed two pairs of socks, one his and one hers, and tossed his over to him. "I had to drag it out of you."

"I wasn't gonna keep it from you forever," he laughed. "I just didn't think...last night was the first normal night we've had in a while, I wanted to give you...us...a break from the heavy shit." He balanced himself on one foot to pull his sock on, then did the same for the other foot, staring at her as she pulled her socks on while sitting on the edge of their bed.

He smiled. _Their_ bed. That's what it was. Their bed, in their room, in their house. He had to convince her to make it permanent. Fast. "What, uh…" he paused to reach for the locked end table, turning the brass key and lifting out his gun and badge. As he set them into place, he asked her, "What else did she say?"

"Probably the same thing Cragen told you," she returned with a shrug, wedging between his body and the bed to grab her own gear out of the drawer he'd opened. She kissed his chin on her way out of the bedroom, but then stopped herself in the hall. "El, we never really talked about who…"

"I already texted Kathy," he said, holding up a hand. She's on her way, she'll be here before we're…" his words were cut off with the ring of the doorbell. "See?" He kissed her forehead and smiled at her.

"Great, but I wasn't talking about who'd watch your kids when we both got called into work," she spoke, following him down the stairs. "I figured it'd be Kathy. I mean, they're _your_ kids, they're...they're _her_ kids, so she loves being here when we can't be, I get that," she sighed and before Elliot could reach the door, she said, "But I seriously doubt she'd be okay watching a kid that was...ours."

He turned with a furrowed brow, tilted his head, and said, "Things have been great between the two of you lately. All of us, we...we figured out how to make this…"

"She's always going to be jealous of me, just like there will always be part of me that is incredibly jealous of her." She shoved her feet into a pair of boots and zipped up the sides as she said, "We each got parts of you the other never had, will never have, and right now, the one thing she's been able to give you that I haven't are your kids. When…" she looked into his eyes, that piercing doubt eating at her again, "If...if we have a baby, she's not gonna be happy about it, and she definitely won't want to be the one we wake the hell up at three o'clock in the fucking morning to babysit!"

Elliot dragged a hand down his face and blindly opened the door, letting his ex-wife into the house. "Look," he said, exhaling, and he turned to Kathy. "You don't mind watching the kids do you?"

"I would prefer it be after sunrise, but you know I want to spend all the time with them I can get," Kathy said, dropping her bag on the coffee table. She noticed Elliot hadn't closed the door. She folded her arms as she leaned against the couch and said, "Not to mention, we would all hate to have a stranger or some college kid do the job, so, yes, I love watching the kids. We're family, I would do anything for you guys. Well, after a cup of coffee."

"See?" He gestured to Kathy as he looked at Olivia with wide eyes and a smirk. "She's family. She's not gonna mind watching the baby, she's…"

"Woah," Kathy yelled, standing upright again. "Baby? What baby?" She turned sharply to Elliot. "You fucking knocked her up already? Couldn't wait until the damn ink on those papers was dry, could you?"

"I'm…not pregnant," Olivia spoke through gritted teeth. "Thank God," she mumbled lowly, and then she grabbed her jacket and rushed out the door, leaving Elliot and Kathy alone.

Elliot turned, then, glaring at Kathy. "Really now?" he griped. "What the hell? I had finally convinced her taking the next step with me wouldn't cause World War Three, and then you have to go and...be...you!" He threw his hands up and grunted.

"Well, you threw that baby thing at me with no warning," Kathy exclaimed, her palms out and shoulders pressed up to her ears. "I thought you asked because she was pregnant! Did you think I was gonna throw you a fucking party?"

Elliot looked genuinely shocked. "No, but I didn't expect the reaction we got, either." He licked his lips, scraping his teeth over the bottom one, and he shook his head. "Eventually, ya know, yes...I will marry her. We will want to have kids of our own. And when that day comes, which...thanks to you is probably not until the next millennium...I would like to know if you'd mind taking care of him, or her, or...them...when we have to leave like this."

"You think when you get married, or if you really do knock her up, that you're still gonna be her partner?" Kathy chuckled and plopped into the couch. "You always told me people got split up, or fired, or forced to transfer. What makes you think the two of you will be special? One of you will be able to stay here with them."

Elliot closed his eyes, tightened his jaw, and asks through his tightly gnashed teeth, "Will you take care of our kids or not?"

Kathy narrowed her eyes, seeing fury in his eyes that told her how serious he was. "Of course, Elliot," she said. "I'd be honored, I just…"

"Then I need to go tell that to her, before she uses your fucking temper tantrum as an excuse to break up with me," he snapped, cutting her off and running out the door, slamming it behind him.

 **A/N: Making up after a fight isn't always easy, especially when you technically didn't fight. And Elliot has a conversation with Cragen that changes everything. But about what?**


	43. Chapter 43

**A/N:** **Can you fix what I know I have broken? There's a hole in my heart where I need you to be(The Space Between Us-Shawn McDonald)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"Maybe it's not a rape at all." Cassidy tossed a pencil into the air, hoping to catch it the way he'd seen Elliot do a million times, but it fell down point first jabbing into his palm. "Ow," he snapped, rubbing his small injury.

Olivia rolled her eyes, her arms folded over her bright red shirt as she perched herself on the corner of Munch's desk. "What are you getting at?" she asked, and one hand rubbed along her forehead as she tried to ignore the fact that Elliot was staring at her.

Cassidy looked her up and down, sucking on the small cut in his hand. He pulled his hand away from his mouth with a small slurping pop and said, "No visible bruises, no defensive wounds, and what the doctor say? Something about internal trauma being at a right angle?"

Elliot snickered, scratching the side of his nose. "Guy would've had to hang from the ceiling for it to be at a right angle," he chuckled. "But you're close. He said _the_ right angle. Frostman said our vic had minimal vaginal trauma and no irregular angular bruising which would have occurred if she was fighting him or being forced down." He squeezed the bridge of his nose; he mentally asked himself when he became so comfortable saying things like that, when it had become standard conversation.

Olivia heard him, but she didn't look at him. She bit her lip as she ran over the vic's statement in her head, pointing out the inconsistencies to herself.

Jeffries heard Elliot, too, but she wasn't in the mood to play nice. She ran a thumb under the elastic of her black suspenders and glared at him. "So she didn't fight back, isn't that what we preach to women? If this happens, you've got a better shot at surviving if you don't fight it?"

Elliot angled his face and eyes, scoffing slightly. "Even if she didn't physically fight, if this was a rape, she would still have internal bruises in certain areas…" he waved a hand and grunted. "Why am I arguing with you?"

Jeffries smirked as she lowered her voice and scooted closer to him. "Because you know I'm right," she said with a shrug. "And you screwed up with your partner, so I'm in a position to step in and, uh, prove she doesn't need you as much as you think."

"Never gonna fucking happen," he snarled back, his canines like fangs as he growled lowly at her.

She laughed and twirled a few curls around her fingers. "We'll see," she said, but before she could make another empty threat or disturbing promise, she heard Olivia speak.

"They're right," Olivia combed a hand through her hair and dragged her teeth along her lips. She shook her head and tugged on the hem of her shirt, staring down at the color of the cotton. It matched Elliot's almost exactly, the color of passion and fire and fury and love, all things she'd been feeling in rapid rotation since her morning run-in with Kathy. "We need to go talk to her again, Munch is getting a statement from the boyfriend, and we should be getting a call from the lab with DNA comparison." She took a breath and looked toward Cassidy. "Maybe she had too much to drink, ended up going home with some other guy, refuses to admit she cheated on her boyfriend so she claims rape to save herself from the humiliation and guilt."

Cassidy pulled his feet off of his desk and sat forward, wagging a pointed finger at her. "Or maybe she knows the boyfriend wouldn't handle it well. Says she was raped to keep herself safe from another kind of abuse? One case leads to another?"

Olivia straightened herself up and hopped off Munch's desk. "Like I said." She finally took a shot at looking at Elliot, her face contorted into a half-grimace when she saw the pain in his eyes as he stared back at her. "We need to talk to her again." She pulled her jacket off the back of her chair and walked out of the squadroom.

Elliot moved to follow her, but Jeffries grabbed his arm. "And don't think we don't all see that you two are practically wearing the same fucking thing. Cragen's gonna ask, and, ya know, I'm gonna tell him." She gave him a challenging look, two raised brows, pressed together lips, a tilt of her head and a confident shrug.

"Tell him, I don't fucking care," he hissed at her. And he closed his eyes and slumped low as he tugged on his coat. "I already talked to him." He bolted from the room, hoping to catch up to Olivia. He ran and met her at the elevator just as the doors opened, and once they were in the small box, he cleared his throat. "So we just gonna ignore each other all day?"

She leaned back against the wall of the lift, exhaled sharply, and said, "Seemed easier that way." She chewed on the inside corner of her cheek, hoping the mild pain would be enough of a deterrent to any tears.

"Yeah," he hurled at her roughly, "You haven't even given me the chance to tell you I talked to Kathy after you ran out of the house like fucking Flash Gordon." He watches as her eyes rise toward him curiously. "She was just upset because she thought…"

"I know what she thought," she interrupted, holding up a hand. "If I wasn't still on birth control, I could have been...and she would have…"

"Will you listen to me, Kid?" He turned his body fully toward her and said, "She's more than okay with watching our kids. Ours. Yours and mine. She wasn't ready to hear it, but once she calmed down...she knows it's gonna happen, and she does want to be the one we call. She'd like a little bit of a warning, though."

The ding and whirr of the metal doors opening stopped any chance of a reaction, and she blinked once before moving out of the elevator. "Well, you can tell her that she's got a lot of time to get used to the idea." She started moving a bit faster. "I have to go home, tonight. Home. To my apartment. I think I left a carton of chicken and broccoli in the fridge, it's probably growing in its own ecosystem by now."

"What? No," he yelled, and he jerked forward fast and cut in front of her, stopping her from moving. "That's why...shit. Kid, I've been meaning to ask you...it's why I told the kids to get used to the idea of us getting married, and having a baby." He twisted his fingers around her wrist and held her gaze. "I want you to move in. Permanently. I'm sure if we talk to your landlord…"

"We're at work," she pulled her hand away from him, shooting worries glances in all directions around the room. "You shouldn't be this close, here," she said, but she looked up at him and let out a slow breath. "Is that really what you want?"

"More than anything," he whispered, and he smiled at her. "I'll help you pack up the rest of your stuff tonight. We'll figure out how to get you out of your lease, and please...Liv, stop taking your…"

"Already skipped it today." She bit her lip and shook her head slightly. "I just, ya know, I wasn't sure if you still wanted...after what Kathy said, if…"

"Hey, you know it's gonna take a lot more than one of Kathy's temper tantrums to get me to give up on us, on what we have and what we're planning," he whispered, and he raised his right hand, curling his index finger and dragging his knuckle slowly down her face. "You have no idea what you've done to me, Kid"

She smiled slightly, leaning up on her toes and averting her eyes, hoping she wasn't blushing. "The same damn thing you did to me, probably." She cleared her throat and sidestepped him, focusing herself back on the job. "I really hope our girl cooperates, tells us the truth one way or another."

The halls were crowded, the line for the metal detectors jamming up the express lane. "Of course, we pick lunch hour to head out on this," Elliot mumbled, folding his arms as he waited behind Olivia.

"While we're talking," Olivia spoke, and then she cleared her throat and shoved her hands into her pockets, "Wanna tell me what you were talking to Cragen about? You were in his office for a while, and if was anything disciplinary, I would have been..."

"I told him," he interrupted. "The truth. About us, about everything. Something Kathy said to me this morning, uh, made me worry that if I didn't..." he turned and poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "he'd split us up before we could prove our marital status wouldn't affect our jobs." He dragged his short nails down the side of his neck. "I reminded him, ya know, that he said he thought of us like family, and if he wanted to show a little nepotism, now would be a good time."

She managed to find an opening in the crowd and led Elliot through it as she asked him, "So what did he say?" She straightened up as soon as she had the elbow room. Looking into his eyes didn't give her an answer; his expression was unreadable. "El, what did he say to you?"

He ran his tongue around his teeth for a bit and gave her a push toward the glass doors, but before he had a chance to tell her anything, a loud voice stopped him.

"Detective Stabler!" An officer yelled, sprinting down a set of stone steps and heading for them. "Detective Stabler, wait! I'm glad I caught you!" He took a breath, his hand over his heart. "We just got an alert, suspicious person on the grounds of Saint Thomas's, I thought you'd want to…"

"Fuck!" He grabbed Olivia's hand and ran, and then threw a hand up as he yelled, "Thanks!"

They sped toward the car, feet hitting the pavement hard, and both hearts were pounding loudly. The school that all four of Elliot's kids went to had just been put on lockdown and all thoughts of heading for the hospital to talk to their vic he flown out the window. They got into the car and like it was rehearsed, she put the dashboard light on and hit the siren as he floored it and peeled out of the lot. "Call Cragen," he snapped, turning the wheel hard and burning rubber.

Olivia pulled out her phone, dialed, and before she could speak, Cragen had babbled at her that he'd heard about it and was sending Jeffries and Cassidy to the hospital and he would be meeting them at the school with a few higher ups and the SWAT team. "Overkill, Cap," she said, but then she told him, "Thank you," and hung up. "Go faster," she said, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

"Going as fast as I can," he retorted, trying to calm himself down and focus before he got them both killed. He stepped a bit harder on the gas and swerved to another lane. He narrowed his eyes then and started driving with more purpose, weaving between cars and taking turns too fast. He heard the tires screech again as he turned the wheel and headed down the avenue on which the school sat.

He parked the car on the corner and got out, instantly taking his gun in his hands and kicking the door closed. He noticed Olivia had done the same and in mere moments they were walking in quick step, toward the school, eying the property, prepared to shoot.

They spotted the other cops that had been called to the scene; they silently told them to stay put as they headed down the front path to the doors of the elementary school. Olivia's head turned, hearing a twig snap to her left, and she moved toward it, knowing Elliot would follow her.

She raised her gun as soon as the figure came into view. "NYPD. Don't move," she said in her firmest voice.

The man looked at her from beneath his blue baseball cap, his hands up. "I was just...I wanted to see them."

Elliot had gone around the other side, his own gun raised, and he said, "What's in the backpack?"

"Comic books, some baseball cards," he tried to look over his shoulder but a shout from Olivia kept him still. "I just...she keeps them from me, I needed to…"

"Who?" Olivia asked, but she had a feeling about the answer.

"My ex-wife. She won't let me see my kids," the man said, and he nodded at Elliot, who lowered his gun and took the man's pack. "I haven't seen them since she left with them."

"Your kids," Olivia said, her voice more of a calming tone now, knowing how volatile the situation could get. "Tell me about them."

"Twins," the man said. "They're the most amazing sons a guy could ask for," he told her with a smile. "They're nine. Ten in three weeks. They're so smart and they both love sports, and chocolate chip...they're my kids!" He shouted. "Fuck, don't I have a right to see my kids?"

Elliot had unzipped and searched the bag, finding nothing more than books and cards, bags of potato chips, and cookies. He caught Olivia's eyes and nodded, slowly licking his lips, and he said, "You could have just called them. You know, you caused quite the panic, here, Mister…"

"Braunson," he said, "Can I put my arms down now?"

"Braunson," Elliot said, thinking, as he zipped up the backpack and stepped over to Olivia. "Aiden and Alex, right? They're in the same class as my daughter."

Braunson made a stuttering noise as he opened and closed his mouth. "Your kid goes here?"

Elliot smiled at the man. "All four of them do," he said. "I know your boys, they're good kids, and right now...because you were skulking around out here, they're locked in the gymnasium with all the lights off, scared half out of their minds."

"I swear, I wasn't gonna hurt anyone, I just…" Braunson swallowed hard and licked his lips. "She took up with some asshole she met at work, my wife did. She told me about it, I forgave her, we moved on. Or...I thought we did. Three months ago, I woke up and she was gone, took the boys and the car, and now my lawyer says I need to wait another two months before I can claim something they call spousal abandonment, but I'm not...I can't go another two months without seeing my kids! Can I please fucking put my arms down?"

"Yeah," Elliot said, nodding. "Come with us and we will clear all of this up, and after school...when you won't scare the shit out of them...we will see what we can do about you seeing your kids."

Olivia holstered her gun and watched Elliot lead the distraught man toward a waiting squad car. What Braunson said had hit home, and she suddenly realized what could have happened if things had gone differently. Kathy could have turned everything around on Elliot, kept the kids from him out of spite. Worse yet, he could have ended up being the one causing a city-wide panic by creeping around the school just for a chance to see his children. She looked up at the blue sky and said a silent prayer of thanks, grateful that it wasn't like that at all, and would never be something she had to worry about.

She moved, then, taking her phone out of her pocket as she walked toward the car, toward Elliot. She dialed a number she rarely used, determined to make sure Elliot never turned into Braunson. "Kathy?" She sighed and said, "Yeah, it is. No, no, everything...he's fine. We're both just fine. I think we should...yeah, I know, he told me. It's okay, you don't have to apolo...no, I'm not trying to…" she smiled and said, "Well, thank you, that's...that's why I was calling, actually. I know we haven't always gotten along, but with things settling into..." she smiled at something Kathy had said, her eyes trained on Elliot shaking Cragen's hand. "Thank you." She took a relieved breath, said goodbye and hung up. She watched Cragen head back to his own car and then looked around to be sure that no one else was watching them. With a grin and a sigh, she kissed Elliot's lips quickly.

"What was that for?" He grinned as he asked the question. "Not complaining at all, just…"

She kissed him again, and she said, "For being exactly who you are." She shot a look toward the moving vehicles, her captain's sedan and the SWAT van clearing out, and she said, "When we get back to the station…" she turned back to him, "I'll call my landlord."

 **A/N: Next, a steamy moment. And Elliot finally has that conversation with Cragen that changes everything.**


	44. Chapter 44

**A/N:** **You do what you always do, cause you're my rescue, taking away the space between us** **(The Space Between Us-Shawn McDonald)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

Maybe it was the way his hand pressed over her mouth, his finger slipping between her lips; maybe it was the ferocity with which he thrust and rolled, making sure she could not only feel every single thick inch of him, but that he rubbed her clit with every pass; maybe it was the way he looked down at her, his lip caught between his teeth, his blue eyes a dark navy with a wicked white gleam in them. Whatever the cause, she was now on the brink of the most intense orgasm of her life.

He felt her clenching, pulling and pulsing around him, and he rolled his eyes as he let out a long, low groan. "Jesus," he whispered through a clenched jaw. He moved his hips faster, gripped the sides of her body harder with one hand while the other cupped her mouth to catch her moans and cries. "Fuck," he growled softly, dropping his head again. He stared down into her eyes, their dark brown swirling in smoke and a lusty haze. He leaned over, rocking his body to get even deeper inside of her.

She whimpered his name as he slowly moved his hand away from her mouth, and just as she was about to let a loud moan fly, he kissed her. Her hands flew to the back of his head as her back arched and her toes curled. Her high-pitched squeals fired into his mouth, bouncing off of the back of his throat and landing on his tongue.

He shook as he moved, trying to fight off the need to cum as long as he could because, shit, he needed her to cum first. "Baby," he mumbled against her lips, swooping his hands down to her hips. He gripped hard, pulling her up into him so he could move further into her. Her tightness locked him in, he lost the last of his resolve and his body shuddered. The muscles in his stomach and chest clenched as he fired hotly into his lover, his Olivia.

Her muscles tugged and pulsed, begging for more of him, and she cried as she came. His name flew from her lips like a sung prayer, her nails clawed at his back as if trying to climb up from a mountain ledge. "Oh, God, Elliot," she whispered, panting. "Oh, God. Oh, my God," like a repeated mantra, over and over, as she felt another violent climax build.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he spat, trying to thrust again, through her vibrating and throbbing walls. He growled once more as he slipped a hand between their slick, writhing bodies, finding her clit and rubbing furiously, bringing her over the edge a third immediate time. It wasn't enough; it would never be enough, but his body was giving out, his muscles were giving in, and he drove into her one final time before stilling, shooting off one last hot bullet and slamming his lips over hers.

She moaned into his mouth as she felt herself being flipped over, and when they collapsed into each other, sinking into the mattress, she kissed his chest, his neck, his chin, and finally his lips again. She fell against him, the side of her head pressed to his chest as she struggled to take a deep breath. Her eyes closed and she shivered as he whipped the blankets over their bodies. A small smile on her face betrayed her thoughts; this was the most satisfying relationship she'd ever been in, in every possible way. Physically, he challenged her. He pushed her to be stronger and faster on the field, tougher in the box. Emotionally, he made her feel more loved and safe, more cherished than anyone ever had, and she felt the same for him tenfold. Sexually, no man had ever gotten her to be so vocal, so uninhibited, so limitless. She'd had to fake it, pretend to have a headache or fall asleep to end things with so many other boyfriends, but never once with Elliot. He reached parts of her she never knew existed and made her feel things she didn't know were possible. Every part of her belonged to him, and she knew that he wholly belonged to her.

He ran his hands through her hair as he stared up at the ceiling, unaware that his thoughts were almost identical to hers. He didn't have but one other relationship, but it paled in comparison to what he had with the woman now in his arms, and he chuckled as the thought of spending the rest of his life with Olivia made his dick twitch, earning a moan from her. He kissed the top of her head and sighed, never feeling more complete, his life had never had more meaning than it did now that he had her.

It didn't take long, since they'd completely exhausted each other, for breathing to even out, for limbs to relax and heartbeats to slow. He kissed her crown again as he gently slipped out of her, shifted from beneath her, and tucked her into a thin roll in the middle of the bed. He watched her wriggle into comfort as he stepped over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans and a tee shirt emblazoned with the logo of some band he'd never heard of until Olivia made him listen to their album.

He laughed softly, thinking it was just one of the million ways she'd already changed him, altered his life, and he knew there was no stopping her, she'd continue to change him. "God, Kid," he sighed, closing his eyes as he tugged the shirt over his head, "I fucking love you." He shot a look over his shoulder and whispered, "Which is why I have to do this." He grabbed his gun and badge and shoved his sockless feet into a pair of Adidas, and ran out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house.

It was the fastest twenty minutes of his life, Cragen's apartment building coming into view almost as soon as he crossed the bridge. "Damn, Cap," he mused, marveling at the waterfront view his place must have, and feeling mildly slighted that he'd never been invited to the place. This wasn't exactly how he'd envisioned his first visit to his boss's, but this was a time-sensitive situation, and after all, Cragen had burst in on him in the middle of the night and turnabout, after all, was fair play.

He pulled into the parking lot, blinking as the gates slid open automatically, and he momentarily considered moving into the complex. He found a visitor's spot, parked, and got out of his car with a cough. He took a breath as he stared at the glass and metal facade, biting his lip and hoping this was not going to backfire. He walked, quickly and with purpose, toward the silver and plate-glass doors, nodding when two men in red uniforms pulled them open. "Swanky," he said to himself, heading past the front desk toward the elevator. He stepped in as soon as it opened, but then narrowed his eyes, trying to remember what floor Cragen had said he lived on, and he grunted as he pushed the bright blue number 12 on the panel.

"12 F," he murmured, rocking on his heels as the lift whizzed upward, the numbers changing fast. He cleared his throat when it jerked to a stop, and he rolled his eyes at himself, and his shaking legs, as he walked down the hall to find Cragen's apartment. His feet landed in front of 12 F, he lifted his arm to knock, but he froze. He sighed, his eyes darted from the bronze numbers on the door to the plush carpet, back again, and then he felt resolute determination. "Okay," he said to no one, and finally he knocked on the door.

Cragen took a few minutes to answer, but when he did, he looked pleasantly surprised. "Elliot, what are you…" he looked up and down the hall. "Olivia isn't with you? You had a fight, you need a place to…"

"No, no," Elliot waved both hands and laughed. "No, Cap, we're fine. I just...I need to talk to you, man to man, um...father to son, I guess." He shrugged sheepishly and smiled slightly. "I didn't think your office in the middle of the day would work, so...I can go, if it's…"

"Come on in," Cragen moved aside, opened his door a bit wider, and smiled as he gestured for Elliot to step over the threshold between the hall and the living room.

"Gotta be honest, Cap," Elliot said, "Never imagined you lived in a place like this." He sat on the couch and looked around, seeing several framed photos of the unit, and right in the center of the wall, a large photo of him and a beautiful woman in a gilded frame. "Your wife?" Elliot pointed, his smile slightly sadder.

Cragen nodded as he sighed and sat next to Elliot. "That's my Marge," he said, and then he went silent as he stared at the picture for a moment. "So," he exhaled and slapped his hands against his knees, turning to look at Elliot. "What're you doing here? It's almost two in the morning, you woke me for something important, or you wouldn't have left Liv and the kids home alone."

Elliot raised an eyebrow.

"Don't look so surprised," Cragen smirked at him, "I'm a higher rank than you, I'm a better detective, you can't get too much past me." He slapped Elliot in the arm with the back of his hand. "Relax."

Elliot laughed and then said, "Well, uh, yeah this...this is about us. Me and Liv. Liv and I, I mean…"

"Hey, relax," Cragen said, more serious now. "You came to me as a son who needed his father, not a cop who needed his boss." He licked his lips and shifted in his seat a bit. "So you've got the father listening, okay?"

Nodding, Elliot cleared his throat again. "I'm...I'm asking her to marry me." He heard the words come out of his mouth and gasped. "That's not, uh...that's not what I wanted to say. I didn't...I'm not…" he saw Cragen's eyes narrow slightly, his lips curl. "Well, I mean...I want to, eventually...but I mean, I'm here to ask you, man to man…"

"Elliot, what?" Cragen hid his amusement well. Elliot reminded him so much of himself when he tried to explain to his father-in-law how much he loved Marge, how badly he sought approval. "Out with it."

With another fast nod, Elliot spoke. "How badly would it fuck everything up?" He rubbed his forehead and swept his palm over his head and down his neck, exhaling harshly. "Marrying her, uh, what...what would that mean for the unit? I'm not entirely sure I'm ready to work with someone else...someone who would hold me back, make me less...I don't know, uh, less...less good."

Cragen pressed his lips together. "You're asking if I would split you up if you actually put a seal on your...other relationship?"

Elliot was silent and still, but then he closed his eyes and nodded. "Cap, she's...she's different. And I'm different with her. I can't explain it, but in the last year and a half, she's made me the best cop I've ever been, the best father I could ever be, I'm a better man, a better person." He felt himself smiling now, and did nothing to stop it. He couldn't. "We work, I've never had a partner I could trust, not like this. We know how each other thinks, how we move, what we're gonna do before we do it, and damn it, I have never felt more secure laying my life in someone's hands. We got each other's backs, and I know...I know you think we're gonna fuck up, get an innocent person killed because we'll prioritize each other, but we're cops first. I...I can't promise I won't ever run to her before chasing some asshole down the block, but that...that would happen even if I didn't…" he stopped.

"Didn't what?" Cragen prodded, tears in his eyes. He'd never heard Elliot speak so openly before, so passionately and emotionally.

Elliot scoffed, as if he couldn't believe what he was about to say, and that he was saying to the person who could fire him for it. "Love her so fucking much." He shook his head and blinked, hot tears welling up in his blue eyes. "I get it, if this is a chance you can't take then I'll fill out whatever forms I need to, I'm taking that fucking test so maybe I can head up a unit in Queens or…"

"You already proved you can do your jobs," Cragen interrupted. "And from the fights I've overheard you two get into, nepotism is not something I have to worry about. You'll back each other up, but that's what partners do. You'll fight for each other, kill...die for each other...but that's the nature of the job. And you were right. You can't promise you won't choose each other over a victim or a perp, because you've already done it, several times...the first time was her first day on the job, so please," he paused and raised a hand as he smiled again at Elliot, "Give me some credit, here, I'm not going to split you up for that." His smile faded. "But how can you expect me to look into her eyes one day and tell her that her husband isn't…"

"No offense, Cap," Elliot interrupted, "But if that's what you're afraid of, then we don't have a problem. Married or not, that's something we're prepared to face just by being cops. And it's something that...neither one of us would survive, even if we don't get married, even if we break up...God, that thought scares the shit out of me, but…my point, we can't live without each other. If anything ever happened to us, the other one wouldn't last too long, so if we could remain, just as we are, partners...we could still do everything in our power to keep each other safe so that never happens. I can't say we'd trust anyone else to ever fight so hard for us."

Cragen nodded, swiping a thumb under his eye, wiping away a tear before Elliot noticed. "Exactly why I have...absolutely no intention of splitting you up."

Elliot heaved a sigh of relief and let out a soft chuckle as he shook his head. "God, I was so terrified that you...you'd…" he sighed again and then took a breath. "So, my next question," he inhaled, sniffled, and then gave a curt nod as if convincing himself to ask it. "I would like...your permission. Blessing. To ask her. To...to marry her."

Cragen shook his head as he grinned. "You don't need my permission, Elliot, even if I didn't…"

"Cap," Elliot cut him off again, "You're the closest thing she has to a father, because that piece of shit rotting away in Rikers is not her fucking father…" his nostrils flared and he calmed himself down with a few slow breaths before he took his fury out on Cragen. "So, I promised her that I would do this the right way, outta the gate, so...I would like to know if…"

"When are the two of you taking that test?" Cragen asked suddenly, wiping his palms on the cotton of his robe.

Elliot jerked back, stunned. "Uh, two weeks, but I'm asking…"

"You pass," Cragen said, and he rested a hand on Elliot's shoulder. "Then you ask her."

Elliot bit his lip, but he smiled. "I'm gonna ask her no matter what score I get on that exam, Cap," he laughed, and then he nodded, "But thank you." He moved closer, then backed away, then shifted closer again, wondering if he should hug his captain or shake his hand. "Cap, I…" he shrugged innocently.

Cragen gave in, pulling Elliot into a fatherly hug. "I'm proud of you," he whispered, "And very happy for you, son, just...don't screw this up."

Elliot chuckled and nodded. "No, I , uh...I got it right this time. I can't screw this up at all."

Cragen nodded back, smiling, and he led Elliot to the door, and once it was closed, he sighed and sent up a silent prayer that Elliot and Olivia passed the sergeant's exam. It would make things so much easier, and make him feel much less guilty for what he had to do.

 **A/N: What...what does that mean?**


	45. Chapter 45

**A/N:** **You do what you always do, cause you're my rescue, taking away the space between us** **(The Space Between Us-Shawn McDonald)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"I'm not sure why I'm here." Elliot sat back in the cushy chair in Ed Tucker's office, drumming his fingers along his knee. Biting his lip, he looked around the room, trying to think of what sort of trouble he'd gotten into lately. "I didn't…" he paused and squinted. "Did that asshole from HR call you? I never even hit him, it was just…"

"El, man," Tucker laughed as he shook his head. "No, this...this isn't a disciplinary problem." He raised an eyebrow. "What asshole from HR didn't you hit, now?"

Elliot smirked. "No one. Why am I here?" He stopped tapping his fingers and then sat forward. "Is this about me and Liv? I thought you weren't gonna…"

"Stabler, shit, man, calm the fuck down!" Tucker ribbed a hand across his head as he exhaled and said, "I got papers on my desk...from your captain. He's retiring at the end of the month. Said something about needing to step aside for the sake of his family? You know what he's talking about?"

Elliot's eyes, wide and stunned, began to sting and water. "Um…no, I...I just…" he cleared his throat. "I may have mentioned that Liv and I...are getting married."

Ed seemed to go completely white and fully red at the same time. "What? When?" Both of his hands were pressed down on his desk, his knuckles turning white. "You asked her to…"

"I didn't ask her," Elliot interrupted. He scratched the back of his neck and then eyed the door, praying for an interruption. "Not yet, we just. We talked about it. Getting married. Having kids. I asked Cragen for...permission, I guess, because…" he shrugged. "It felt like the right thing to do." He narrowed his eyes and licked his lips. "He's retiring? I don't...why would he…"

Ed spoke over him before he could finish. "Maybe because he knows you two are tying the knot and popping out those kids you want as soon as possible, and she wouldn't want you with another partner while she's out of commission. Not like you'd work well with one, anyway." He scoffed and shrugged once. "This way...you wouldn't have to, because…"

"Because he thinks I'd take his job?" Elliot cut in, disbelieving and half-furious. "What the fuck gave him the idea that…"

"You took the exam this morning," Tucker told him, and then tossed a thick envelope in his direction. "I had them rush your scores. Exigencies, ya dig? You passed. Flying colors."

With shaking fingers, Elliot reached down and grabbed the envelope. "I'm sure Liv…"

"Kicked your ass," Tucker laughed as he nodded. "Yeah. She did. But we both know she won't take the gig, and you're obviously not taking the wheel. Cragen made it clear, uh, you told him in no uncertain terms that you want to keep your job, and your partner, just the way they are." He noticed the flummoxed look on Elliot's face and he sat forward and folded his hands. "Now, if you'll actually fucking listen to me instead of trying to Kreskin the conversation," he raised a brow and took a breath. When he was sure Elliot wasn't going to interrupt, he said, "Don Cragen has been under the district's microscope for years, his drinking problem almost cost him his badge a few times, and he only took the helm at SVU because it meant he'd be behind a desk."

Elliot tilted his head. "Not following."

Tucker inhaled and then spoke as he let out his heavy breath. "His resignation is a preemptive strike, because he thinks someone is gonna tan his hide for being as close as he is to his detectives and not taking any sort of action against this, uh, situation." He waved a hand in front of Elliot dismissively. "I called you in here...to ask you to tell him...I refuse to send this to the chief. He has no need. Everything he's afraid of...I already took care of it."

Elliot stiffened. "Took care of what?"

"The corporate red tape, the political bullshit, the backlash," Tucker pulled on his right ear and cleared his throat. "No one is gonna question his judgement, and no one thinks he's gonna lose sight of his responsibility to the unit because he's letting you two…"

"He's not letting us…" Elliot spoke, but he laughed. "God, I mean, we'd do this without his permission, and we only told him because it was getting too hard to hide. After her mom…" he lowered his eyes and shook his head, emotion swelling. "He saw it. How serious it was. How...how desperately in love with her I am, how she is more of a mother to my kids than…" he stopped and he laughed again, once. "Before I met her, there were all these empty spaces in my life, I had these secrets I couldn't and these...needs, I guess is the right word…that no one else seemed to be able to meet."

Tucker smiled as he listened, and he leaned back and said, "She's some kinda something, huh?"

Elliot's smile broadened. "You don't know the half of it," he chuckled. "Man, from the moment we met, I knew she was gonna change my life." He looked at Tucker and he gave a simper and a shrug. "Never thought it would be like this."

Ed looked at him with a friendly grin and a nod and he said, "Well, then go tell her that. Ask her what you need to ask her, since...ya know, you both passed the exam." He shot a knowing look at his friend and pointed to the door. "Give Cragen my message, huh?"

Elliot nodded as he stood up. He took two steps toward the door before turning around and looking at Tucker. "Thanks," he said with a small grin. He held out a hand.

Tucker rose, moved fast, and took his hand and pulled him in for a brotherly hug. "Thank me by not naming one of those kids Edward, huh?"

With a laugh, Elliot nodded and slapped his friend on the back. "No worries there," he said, and he gave his friend another look before walking through the office door. He met Olivia's worried face as soon as he stepped into the hallway. "Relax," he said, seeing her stand fast. "It wasn't...it was just…" he thought fast and looked down at the envelope in his hands. "We both passed the exam."

Olivia narrowed her eyes and frowned a bit. "Scores came back fast."

"Tucker rushed them because Cragen…" he stopped before telling her about the almost-resignation and real reason Tucker had the scores expedited. He lifted one hand, brushed the hair out of her eyes and behind her ear, and smiled so warmly and so genuinely that he actually felt the pure love radiate from his own face. "Cragen made me promise that I would do something as soon as we got them."

She looked at him as though he'd just set his hair on fire. "What?" She blinked at him, but the look on his face, the glimmer in his eyes and the pure smile shining at her made her calm down, and she gave him a prodding elbow to the ribs. "You owe him fifty bucks, don't you? Wait, who got a higher score?" she crossed her arms and chuckled.

"You did," he answered with a chuckle, but not...not the point," he took her hand and led her down the hall, eyeing her up and down. Her bright red button-down shirt pulled just a bit at her chest, the sight making him lick his lips a bit. He followed her form down to her grey slacks which hugged her hips and the curves of her ass but flared out as they met her ankles, her heeled boots were scuffed but shiny, and he wondered if running in them was a talent that came naturally or something she had to practice. "You look...incredible."

"You feeling okay?" she squinted as she asked the question, but followed him out through the lobby of One Police Plaza. "Seriously, you look like you're gonna…"

"I might throw up," he admitted, nodding, "But not...not yet. Maybe later," he winked at her and saw her eyes flash, her cheeks flush slightly, and suddenly he walked with his body a little straighter, his head a little higher. There was a kick in his step, a sway in his strut, and he knew he got to her the way she got to him, he knew that one look from him could make her weak in the same exact way he turned to complete mush when he looked at her. "I love you," he said, suddenly stopping and pulling her into him.

She hit against his body with a stunned grunt and widened eyes. "I love you, too, but what are you…" and her words were muffled and swallowed by Elliot's eager mouth. His heated kiss took over, his tongue delved into her mouth and explored every bit of territory, claiming it as his. Hands wound around heads, legs wriggled between each other, soft moans and gravelly curse words flew from lip to lip, until finally, a honking horn snapped them apart.

Elliot waved a sheepish apology at the driver who'd been so irritated by their moment in the crosswalk, and he chuckled under his breath as he ushered a still reeling Olivia completely across the street. He kissed her forehead, and they picked up the pace, walking fast to get back to the station. He had to relay Tucker's message to Cragen, which was making him a nervous wreck, but there was something else. He knew they had a heavy caseload, that the day would be long and carry well into the night, bringing a million emotions with it, but he also knew that there was something he had to do as soon as it was all over, as soon as they were home.

He grinned.

He already knew exactly how to do it.

 **A/N: Ohh?**


	46. Chapter 46

**A/N:** _ **Blinding light illuminates the scene. Try to fill "The Spaces In Between" - How to Destroy Angels**_

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

She still had boxes piled up in the corner of the living room, afraid to find homes for the last few things, afraid that once she gave them permanence, things would fall apart. She sighed, scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, and wondered how much of the stuff she really needed, if it mattered if the boxes were never unpacked, leaving some small sense of the person she once was, before meeting the man sprawled out on the couch to her left. She smiled at him, then, and suddenly all thoughts of the person she used to be drifted away and she held a bit tighter to the woman she was now. "I thought Kathy was taking the kids to see that movie," Olivia said, gripping a cup of coffee as she sat on the couch beside Elliot. She pulled her knees up a bit, running one hand over the blue and green plaid flannel pants she'd taken from a drawer on Elliot's side of the dresser.

He grinned as he took the cup out of her hands. "You got her name right, again," he teased, and as the mug touched his lips, he asked, "What movie?" He reached out and pulled up the strap of her tank top, letting his fingertips graze her shoulder.

With narrow eyes, she watched him sip her coffee and she chuckled as she took the mug back. "Super Jake and the…something Bandits," she said, deliberately holding his gaze as she took a long, slow sip. "They were so excited, it's in 3D and they're giving out souvenir action figures with every ticket."

He laughed and sat up straight, scooted himself closer to her, and tugged the wrinkles out of his Aerosmith tee shirt. He wrapped an arm around her as he said, "We will take them to the movies on Saturday, they, uh...they wanted to be here, tonight. With us. Speaking of which, it's getting kinda late, here." He turned his head and craned it back to shout toward the stairs. "Are you guys ready yet? If this is gonna happen, it needs to happen now!"

Olivia stared, confused, and raised one eyebrow in silent interrogation.

He looked at her and chuckled. "Don't worry about it," he said, and he shifted in his seat while the clomping of heavy footsteps echoed through the ceiling. "They're coming," he laughed, and he bent his head forward, slowly pulling the coffee out of her hands as he kissed her.

The four little bodies raced down the steps with overlapping excited chatter: "I wanna go first!" "You can't! It won't make sense!" "She'll figure it out!"

Eye rolls and groans changed into giggles and shy smiles as the kids took their places in front of the couch. Maureen, the oldest, cleared her throat dramatically and pulled the tie on her pink robe a bit tighter as she said, "We love you, both of you, but this...this is for you, Liv." She handed Olivia a small card, childlike swirls scrawled in crayon on the front.

"What...what's this for?" Olivia asked, looking quizzically at Elliot who shrugged innocently before turning back to Maureen. "Why are you…"

Maureen held up a small hand and interrupted her. She shifted her weight, making the ears on her bunny slippers flop to the left. "We love you, and we're so happy that daddy got you as a partner, and that you came into our lives when you did. It's been really cool to see our dad so happy because, before you, he wasn't. Not for a long time. Not the way he is when he's with you. We're all happy with you." She pointed a finger at the card. "Don't read that yet! You have to wait for all of them."

Olivia suppressed the urge to cry as she smiled and nodded. "Okay, sweetie. But I don't know why you're..."

Kathleen shouted, "My turn!" She smoothed a hand down her purple pajama pants and bopped up and down nervously. "Okay, well, here," she thrust another card at Olivia and said, "It's because you taught me how to braid my own hair, and you always help me with my math homework without ever asking why I don't get it. You read us stories and tuck us in, and you make the best almond butter and jelly sandwiches because Lizzie's allergic to peanuts. Whenever we need you, you always understand and you just...know."

Dickie chimed in with a suave bow and a flourish of his arm, whipping the blue fabric of his robe backward like a cape as he handed Olivia a third card. "I don't think I need to say anything other than...well, I'm just like my dad. We both think you're the most amazing person in the world, but me especially because you never yell when I come home full of mud and grass stains, and you play basketball and baseball with me, and you taught me that wicked fastball, the reason we won our last game."

Lizzie timidly handed Olivia a card of her own, smaller but more colorful than the others. She tugged on the sleeves of her pink unicorn jammies as she spoke as eloquently as she could for a child her age. "You don't think it's weird that I read so much. You don't think I'm crazy for studying instead of playing video games, or that I'd rather watch the Discovery channel than cartoons. You took me to get new glasses when mine broke, and you knew you'd be late for work, and you won't tell dad how much they were because you won't let him pay you back. That's how come I know that you love us, just as much as we love you."

"Yeah," Elliot said, wiping the tears that were now freely falling from Olivia's eyes. "We're talking about those glasses later, by the way."

Olivia chuckled as she sniffled, but again, said nothing as she simply nodded.

Maureen stepped forward again and said, "We each gave you a card with a question on it, and we need the answers so that we can ask you another question after, if you get the answers right."

Olivia's eyes were red, tears slowly dripped from their corners, but she laughed and nodded once more as she stacked the cards. "Does it matter which…"

"In order," Kathleen squeaked, excitedly hopping in place. "How we gave them to you."

Olivia sniffled and turned over the card Maureen had given her. "What is Shakespeare's first name?" she read out loud. "William."

"Okay, yeah but for short?" Maureen prodded with rolling hands.

"Will?" Olivia suggested and when the kids clapped and gave her a few thumbs-up, she laughed and moved onto the next card. She looked down at the question Kathleen had written in black magic marker. "What is the twenty-first letter of the alphabet?" She paused, bit her lip, and mentally counted letters until she got the answer. "The letter u."

Again, the kids clapped, whooped and hollered, and told Olivia she was right. "Mine next," Dickie shouted, hitting his older sister's shoulder in anticipation. He stopped quickly when Kathleen whacked him back.

Olivia picked up Dickie's card, flipped it over, and squinted with a chuckle as she tried to decipher his handwriting. "You really are just like your father," she joked as she struggled to make out the question. "In Spanish, it's _casar_ not _césar_ which means _Caesar_ like the salad." Her eyes honed in on the word and she realized what was happening. Her heart began to race, her palms dampened, her breath hitched as she whispered, "Marry." She lifted her head and sniffles as she locked eyes with Elliot, who looked as though he would throw up any moment. "El?"

Lizzie cleared her throat and pushed her glasses up higher on her nose. "Mine, please?"

Elliot saw the look in Olivia's eyes, the color now gone from her face. "You...you don't have to…"

"Yeah, sweetheart," she sniffled, interrupting Elliot, and she turned over the last card, marveling at how small yet neatly Lizzie had written, running the pad of her finger over the words, each written in differently colored ink. "He's one of the city's greatest detectives, a true hero to so many, including his four kids. He loves you a lot. First and last name, please." She sniffled again and then smiled as she said, "Elliot Stabler. You made these questions really easy, guys!" She chuckles as she wiped her eyes.

"You got them all right, so we have…" Maureen started. "I mean, if you put all the answers together, it's another question." She cleared her throat again and let out a deep breath. "Will."

"You." Kathleen started quickly.

Dickie rubbed his hands together. "Marry."

Lizzie looked at her dad and then at Olivia. "Daddy. Um, Elliot Stabler."

Crying again, Olivia turned toward Elliot as she pressed her lips together.

"This question is probably harder to answer than the ones the kids asked. You don't even have to answer it, but…" he swallowed hard and turned his hand over, uncurled his fingers, and held out a beautiful silver and diamond ring. "They asked you, but it's really...my question to ask." He looked up at her, into her eyes, and he asked, "Liv, will you marry me?"

"Oh, Elliot," she cried as she moved closer to him. "Yes." She threw her arms around him and heard the kids cheer and clap.

"What, wait...what?" He stammered and sputtered and pushed her away to look at her. His eyes were dinner plates as he floundered for breath. "You said yes?"

She nodded, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, and she sniffled as she said, "I said yes." Her stomach clenched as she repeated it, her nerves and fears crept up fast, and she dropped her gaze to Elliot's trembling hands. "You thought I'd say no...you don't really want…"

"Don't even finish that sentence," he cut her off with a shake of his head as he slid the ring onto her finger. "I know you...and I know...this scares you." He grabbed her hand tighter, his thumb flicked over the stone as he lowered his gaze and moved closer to her. He whispered, "I love you, so much, Kid. Like Maury said, I am so fucking happy with you. Happier than I could ever remember being, even before I met you something was missing, there were parts of me that were...unreachable. But you...you found them. You found me. And I hope I've been at least half of what you've…"

She silenced him with a kiss, her actions telling him what her words never could. Her hands pulled out of his grasp and wrapped themselves around his neck and she whispered a soft, "I love you," against his lips. She turned, then, remembering the kids were standing there, watching, and she said, "I love you guys, too, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Dickie laughed, "We know. We can feel it. That's why we wanted to ask, ya know, with Dad. He isn't the only one who wants you to stay with us forever." He moved fast, throwing his little body into Olivia.

Before she could even blink, the other three children and Elliot had wrapped her in a tight group hug and between bouts of happy tears and chuckles, they called her "mom."

The doorbell rang, then, and the group unraveled. Elliot said, "I'll get it," and Olivia sent the kids back upstairs to bed now that their excitement had given way to exhaustion. She rose and met Elliot at the door, still not used to anyone but a delivery guy coming to the door. "El, who…" she stopped, seeing two uniformed officers and Ed Tucker on the stoop. "What the hell is this?"

Elliot shrugged, annoyed. "No idea, he hasn't said a damn thing yet, just staring at me like I killed his puppy."

"Oh, I am not, you drama queen." Tucker spat, rolling his eyes. "You two need to come with me," Ed said. "I brought these guys…" he gestured to the cops flanking him. "This is Officer John McHenry and Officer Laura Brighton, from the Two-Nine. They're here to, ya know, to stay with kids. I figured it's too late to call…"

"I can call Kathy," Elliot said, "Just tell us what this is about." He folded his arms and flared at Tucker. "We didn't do anything serious enough to merit…"

"You didn't," Tucker interrupted. "Guns, badges, now." He looked at Elliot. "Call Kathy if you want to, but tell her to fucking fly here and these officers are not leaving. Now, we need to go."

Olivia looked at Tucker as Elliot pulled out his cell phone. "Why didn't you just call us, or Cragen could have…"

"No, he couldn't have," Tucker said, and then he sighed. "Just…" he rubbed his forehead. "This is personal, okay? I'm not just here to escort you to a crime scene. We need to go…"

"Protective custody?" Olivia blinked and turned to Elliot, confused and slightly scared. "What the hell is going on?"

"No idea," he said, shoving his phone in his pocket. "Kathy's on her way, you sure these rookies can…"

"Detective Stabler," Officer Brighton chuckled, "I have five kids of my own, I promise, they'll be safe."

Elliot nodded at the woman, then grabbed two coats off the rack and Olivia's hand, and followed Tucker out the door and down the front steps, just as confused and worried as Olivia.

 **A/N: Uh oh!**


	47. Chapter 47

**A/N:** _ **Blinding light illuminates the scene. Try to fill "The Spaces In Between" - How to Destroy Angels**_

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"Don't…" she threw her hands up and shifted away from him, shaking her head with venom in her eyes as she felt his arm slip off of her shoulders. "Don't touch me."

He stared at her, confused only for a moment before he let out a petulant scoff and leaned back. He sneered in the other direction. "You're fucking mad at me, now? How the hell is any of this my fault?"

She gave a single, bitter chuckle. His lack of relationship experience always shined the brightest in moments like this. "I'm not mad at you, stop throwing a temper tantrum." She licked her lips and shot a vile glance in Tucker's direction. "It's him."

"What?" He was still pouting, furious he had been told no, his heart aching at the thought she might have been ready and willing to take off the ring that'd only been on her finger for an hour. "Liv, he knows we…"

"He doesn't know you asked me to marry you two minutes before he ripped us out of the house with no fucking explanation." She turned her head slightly, eyeing him. "And no one else in this building is aware that we're more than partners, so it would be a good idea if you didn't get too close right now, I'm not...I'm not mad at you."

It hit him, then, like a cinder block. "You're pissed at him because he showed up right when…"

"I used to think about it a lot," she interrupted, her head down, staring at her half-folded hands. "How you would ask that question. If...if you would." She shot both brows up for a moment and nibbled the inside of her cheek, shrugging slightly. 'If anyone would." She chuckled, but only to keep from crying. "Besides that one…"

"Don't bring that up," he cut her off with a smirk, envious rage hidden in his words. "Never happened," he joked, and he very discreetly ran a hand over her back.

She let out a single, silent laugh. "Yeah," she said, "But I stopped thinking about it, ya know? Because I guess...part of me knew you would, eventually, and I knew nothing I could ever picture in my head would live up to what you'd actually do. Or say. And tonight," a tear rolled out of the corner of her left eye, and she swatted it away immediately with a sniffle. "God, it was so...perfect, and I always thought...or assumed...after you asked, after I said yes, that we'd have time. That there would be time to convince me I wasn't dreaming, it wasn't something I imagined, that you really weren't going anywhere and that I actually fucking found someone to put up with me and everything wrong with me for the rest of my life. We should be home, in bed, basking in this fucking Goddamned miracle, but no, we are here, in the fucking middle of One-P-P, because Ed Fucking Tucker got a creepy phone call!"

Slowly, without worrying about anyone's watching eyes, he moved both of his hands up and around her cheeks, cupping her face. Swiveling his wrists, he turned her head so she was looking right at him, and he whispered, in a tone that would normally make her clothes fall off, "I asked, you said yes. It happened, and yes, it's a fucking miracle, because I spent so many years thinking I would be stuck living the rest of my life wondering what it felt like to be loved, really fucking loved. When you came along, I knew. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, at all, except that you're fucking crazy. You have to be if you really want to spend the rest of your life with me." He leaned in just a bit closer. "I swear to you, as soon as we're alone, I will convince every fucking inch of your body that I am not going anywhere, and I am going to love you...so much better than anyone, even better than I have been, till death do us part."

"God, I really need to kiss you, right now," she breathed, her words barely audible as she let more tears trickle down only far enough to swipe them gone with her sleeves.

"Go ahead," Tucker's voice told her, a smile hidden in the words. "No one here gives a shit." He folded his arms, but despite his words, he moved to shield the two enamored detectives from view as they kissed, more desperately than he had anticipated. Clearing his throat, he looked away, feeling as though he was intruding on something powerfully intimate.

He was.

Elliot was the first to speak when he pulled away from Olivia, squeezing the bridge of his nose and holding back tears as he said, "Okay, so, uh, what's the story here?" He looked up. "How deep is the shit we're in?"

"Deeper than some that you've trampled through in the past," Tucker said with a shrug, blushing slightly as he looked down at them. He had never seen that kind of emotion from anyone, let alone the two strongest people he knew. "Not as deep as the rest."

Elliot's blue eyes narrowed. "So then why are we…"

"Because the threat was...is...immediate," Tucker interrupted, glaring now. "They knew where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing." He blinked rapidly a few tines. "Congratulations, by the way." He pointed to the ring on Olivia's finger.

"Oh," her face went sheet white as she looked down at her left hand. "Thank you," she said, marveling at the way the diamond glinted in the fluorescent light. Her stomach lurched and she shook off a wave of dizziness, clearing her throat as she turned her eyes up toward Tucker. "What else did they say? Who was it? A woman, man, donkey? I mean, you're telling us less than shit here!"

Tucker shoved his hands in his pockets, finding it hard to remain professional and not protective. He swallowed a lump in his throat while he gave her the once over, trying to ignore how adorable she looked in her plaid pajama pants. They were too big, he noticed, hanging on her hips enough for him to see slips of toned skin, and he cursed himself for not being younger and more brazen when they'd first met. "Male caller, taunted us. Said he was exactly three minutes from your place, and challenged us...to get there before he did. It took us five minutes to get to you, and clearly, he wasn't really going for it. We got squad cars rounding your block, and some pals of yours canvassed the area, no one...no one suspicious. Nothing out of the ordinary, but someone...someone has eyes on you, and I wasn't taking the chance of letting them get to you."

"Have they called back?" Elliot asked, and he pulled Olivia closer. "You said they were watching us, so they know you got us out of the house, they know we're here." He saw something in Tucker's eyes shift, his demeanor changed and it was clear. He gripped Olivia, making her realize as well. "What did he say?"

"Did you trace the call?" Olivia asked, trying to pull the sleeves of her hooded sweatshirt down even more, the chills running down her spine were freezing her entire body.

Tucker sighed and rubbed his chin again. "We tried. It's a burner phone, bouncing signals all over the place. He knows you're here, he, uh, he said...fuck, he said it's only making him more determined. He's taking it as a challenge."

"So he's gonna try to get to us while we're here? He thinks he can get through a thousand cops?" Olivia scoffed. "Whoever this guy is, he's got balls."

"Or…" Elliot's head shot up, he looked at Tucker with wide-eyes. "You think it's a cop, don't you?" He stood up fast, yanking his hand away from Olivia and rushing at Tucker. "You didn't bring us here to protect us, you're using us as bait, you son of a bitch!"

"Elliot!" Olivia yelled as she leaped to her feet and wrapped her arms around him before he could do any damage. She pulled him back, stunned at how resistant he was, how strong. "El, knock it off!"

He gave in and walked with her back toward their vacated bench, but he was still glaring at Tucker. His nostrils flared and his jaw was tight.

"Fuck, Stabler," Tucker barked, brushing himself off, "No, I am not using you as bait! Jesus!" He exhaled and rolled the tension out of his neck and shoulders. "It's not a cop, man. Christ." He lowered his eyes and his voice. "I know you're scared. I swear to you, nothing's gonna happen. We cleared out the workroom in the basement, two bedrooms a kitchen, showers, and bathrooms, you'll be absolutely safe."

Olivia squinted up at him as she ran her hands over Elliot's trying to calm him down. "Why would we need two bed…"

"I don't think all six of you would fit in one bed," Tucker injected, a grin on his face.

"Six?" Elliot followed Tucker's turning head and once again jumped to his feet, this time to pull his kids into his arms. "Hey, guys," he choked out, kissing each small forehead. He looked over at Tucker and nodded his thanks, and then beckoned for Olivia to join him and his kids their giant, emotional hug.

Tucker watched her, noticing no hesitation as she wrapped herself around all four tiny bodies and umbrellaed them under Elliot's hold. He smiled for a moment, but then slowly backed up and headed for his office. There wasn't much time, he had to make sure he kept his promise and kept his detectives safe. As he signaled for two uniformed officers to escort Olivia, Elliot, and the kids down to the safe wing, he realized they were also his friends, his family, and it wasn't just his job to protect them.

It was personal.

He looked up and down the hallway before closing his door and heading for the phone, dialing a long-ago memorized number. He waited, biting his lip, and he picked at his cufflinks when he heard someone answer. "Where the hell are you?" he asked, his voice like hot gravel. "Get your ass down here, now! No, it's not an internal…" he growled lowly and gritted his teeth. "I'm not asking you to do me a favor! Not...not just me, someone...someone's in trouble, and you have to…" he stopped, the man's voice piercing his ears and his nerve. "No, it's...man, it's Olivia." Silence. A smile. "I knew you would be. Yeah, I know." He hung up, and slowly, he opened his bottom drawer. He took out a silver box, unlatched it, and lifted a small, silver pistol out of the case. "Come and get her, you son of a bitch." He made sure the gun was loaded and walked out of his office, hoping to end this before it even began.

 **A/N: Who did he call?!**


	48. Chapter 48

**A/N:** _ **No matter how close we are, someone will always try to wedge into the space between us.**_

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

"These beds are more comfortable than the cots in the cribs." Olivia rolled over, her eyes closed, and draped an arm over Elliot's chest. She absentmindedly began dragging her nails along his skin, making intricately detailed paisley patterns. She watched his body rise and fall with his breathing, and her nails began to roll over him in the same even tempo.

Half-asleep, Elliot smiled and snuggled closer to her. "If you don't stop that, we're gonna test how thin these walls are and potentially traumatize our kids." He chuckled and bent his head to kiss her, but she had shot up and he got a mouthful of her pillow. He blinked, shook his head, and rolled back over onto his back. "Okay, what did I…"

"That was…" she licked her lips and twisted herself around again. "You called them…" she cleared her throat. "Sorry. It's just the first time you…"

He sat up, then, and wrapped his large hands around her shoulders. "They're ours." He kissed her cheeks. "Just as much yours as mine, baby. You've been an incredible mother to them."

She smiled and closed her eyes as she let herself fall back down to the mattress with him. They were just getting comfortable, drifting off to sleep, holding each other, when someone's voice called through their door.

The person knocked again, loudly, called to them again, and said, "This is important."

Elliot groaned, mumbled something foul about killing whoever it was, and shuffled barefoot through the room, kicking aside his discarded Aerosmith shirt and her hoodie. He made it over to the door, opened it, and suddenly he was wide awake. "What the fuck do you want?" He looked over his shoulder, seeing Olivia still in bed, and lowered his voice. "How the hell did you even…"

"Your pal Tucker called me." His voice was like gravel in quicksand, deep and raspy. His brown eyes peered at Elliot through slits, his hands were folded into his pockets and he shrugged. "He knew I was in town. Said our girl was in trouble. I got down here as fast as I could."

"She's not our girl, Hank," Elliot nearly growled. "Just mine." He sighed and hit his lip. "Thanks, though." There was silence as Elliot looked awkwardly around the small room. It was stark white, nothing on the walls except a calendar posted to the wrong month. He scratched at the beginnings of stubble speckled along his chin, and then he looked at the man again. "What? You look like you want to ask me something."

"You two okay?" Hank Voight peeked over Elliot's shoulder and smiled, seeing Olivia peacefully sleeping, and then he looked back at Elliot. "You tell her about me, yet?" He chuckled and said, "Last time we saw each other, she thought I was hitting on her."

Elliot glared harshly at him. "Were you?" he asked, half-serious. Seeing Hank shooting him a dry look, he exhaled and shook his head. "Not really an easy conversation to have. She just got used to Ma, met my sisters once, kept her the fuck away from my brother, for obvious reasons. She met Kevin under the worst possible circumstances…" he shrugged. "Every time family comes up, shit hits the fan."

"You're catholic," Voight said, "She's gotta know you have Godparents." He scratched his head and said, "Tell her, El. It'd explain a lot and save me some embarrassment." He coughed and then punched Elliot lightly in the arm. "I'm gonna go check…"

"Who are you talking to?" Olivia had woken up and slipped out of the bed, padded softly over to the door, and rubbed her eyes as she turned her head. "Oh, what the hell are…"

"Tucker called him," Elliot said, looping a hand around her back. "Listen, Kid, uh...your last week out in Chicago, Hank wasn't...he wasn't hitting on you. He was just trying to get to know you...for me."

She eyed him suspiciously for a minute. "For you?" She glanced at Voight. "Why?"

Hank licked his lips and said, "I knew where you were transferring and I knew you got stuck with Stabler. I wanted to figure you out so I could give him a heads-up, tell him what to expect."

"Wait, what? You two know each other?" She looked at Elliot and narrowed her eyes. "What exactly did he tell you about me?"

"Nothing," Elliot told her. "I never picked up his calls." He brushed her hair back and said, "Kid, uh, Hank was one of my dad's best friends, despite a pretty wide age gap. They met through a "big brother" program at Church. My dad really thought of him as a little brother, taught him how to fish, ride his bike, pick up girls." He chuckled and kissed her again. "Hank wanted to become a cop because of my dad, and...he...is my Godfather."

Olivia scoffed, stunned, and then nodded. "Wow," she whispered. "Okay, that...makes a lot of sense." She wagged a finger between the two men. "You're a lot alike. You have the same, uh...interrogation technique. I'm guessing you both got that from your father?" She chuckled, remembering their shared penchant for intimidation and how they both threw punches first and asked questions later. "So Tucker called you because…"

"Because he knows I'd do anything to keep my family safe, and he knows...that includes you," Voight nodded once at her and tried to smile. "He needed someone outside of the department to take this, ya know? No one can try to make this into something it's not if the collar's made by someone from a completely different state, right?"

Olivia wrapped her arms around herself and then sunk into Elliot who had done the same from behind her, his fingers linking with hers as he held her tightly. "Do you...do you know who's trying to…"

"Yeah," Hank said, then he held up his two large, rough, dry hands. "We know why, too, and it's not...it's not your fault."

"What are you saying?" Elliot kissed the back of Olivia's head and eyed Hank's casual attire. Jeans, a torn tee-shirt, leather jacket, and he wondered what the brass would do to him if he showed up to work in something so casually cool. "Someone's after her and it…"

"It's not your fault," Hank repeated. "You're being targeted because hurting you would hurt someone else." He slapped Elliot on the shoulder and said, "Go back to sleep. Like I said, I'm gonna go into the other room and check on the kids."

Elliot nodded a silent thank you and then turned Olivia around in his arms as he kicked the door shut. "I didn't think…" he paused and sighed, and then blinked once. "Why would Tucker call him? Why wouldn't he just tell Cragen we needed extra eyes on…"

"When Tucker came to the house," Olivia interrupted him, "He said Cragen couldn't have just called us. Then he took us to One P P, instead of to the precinct. We haven't spoken to Cragen about this, I don't think anyone has."

"Tucker called a man I haven't even seen since my father's funeral because he couldn't go to Cragen," Elliot surmised. "Hurting us would hurt someone else?"

"Whoever is coming after us is probably trying to hurt Cragen," she said softly, as if saying it too loudly would make it even more true. She tugged on the band of Elliot's sweatpants, pulling him closer to her, and she said, "Voight told us Tucker needed someone outside of the department to keep an eye on us. Maybe it's because whoever is pissed off enough at Cragen to hurt us is…"

"What?" Elliot made a face. "No, no way. We work with everyone in the city, and the people in that building, they're family. No, I mean...what could Cragen have done to them? Who'd hurt us because, what, they didn't get a raise or a desk that doesn't wobble?"

She shrugged at him, walking back to the bed, shivering slightly every time her bare feet landed on the cold tile. "Okay, so maybe it's just so no one tells him. Keep him from worrying, keep the unit from caving in over this? We had the night off anyway, it's not like…"

There was a knock on the door again, and Elliot ran fast, looking through the slot before opening it. "Are my kids…"

"They're fine," Voight told him, "Sound asleep. I just wanted to let you know, uh, we got eyes on the son of a bitch. He's…"

"Here?" The question mark on his face was clear, and he licked his lips. He saw his Godfather readying his gun and he tilted his head. "Hank, what are you…"

"Listen," Voight said. "Tucker's right upstairs, two unis are guarding the stairs, no other way in or out. You're safe down here." He holstered his gun and gave Elliot a small, manly hug. "I'll call you when I kill the prick. Promise to pick up this time?"

Elliot nodded as his heart filled with dread. He watched Hank go, wondering if it was the last time he would ever see him again, and wondering if there was another reason Tucker called Voight.

Another reason altogether, that would fill the last bit of empty space in his life.

 **A/N: What?!**


	49. Chapter 49

**A/N: Blinding light illuminates the scene. Try to fill "The Spaces In Between" - How to Destroy Angels**

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story**.

Olivia paced back and forth in the pit of the interrogation room, biting her nails as she watched what was going on behind the glass.

Ed Tucker and Hank Voight were grilling the man responsible for the threats against her and her family, and she couldn't believe the reasons behind it all. She felt Elliot's hands on her before she saw him, but she pushed herself away from him and continued her nervous back and forth.

"Maureen has a gymnastics meet, Lizzie and Katie...their dance recital is the day after tomorrow, Dickie's got a game on Friday…" she ran both hands through her hair as she exhaled harshly through pursed lips. "This...we don't need this."

Elliot moved fast, pulling her to him again, and he kissed the top of her head. "This doesn't really affect us. We aren't the target here. We were just…"

"Collateral damage," she breathed with a small nod. "Tucker tell you why he called in Voight? There were a hundred other people he could have asked to help him on this." She glanced at the glass pane, her heart cracking at the sight of her captain, the man who'd somehow pissed off someone so intensely it merited putting a hit out on her and Elliot. "What did he say about all of this?" her voice asked in a whisper.

He kissed her again, softly, as he said, "Ed wanted someone completely impartial, someone with no ties to anyone in the department. Well, except us, but…" he cleared his throat. "Tucker didn't know who was after us, who Cragen ticked off, and he knew...Hank was coming out here anyway." He looked down at her and smiled. "He wanted to see me. Repair the damage that…"

"What happened?" She looked into his eyes and brought one of her hands to the side of his face. "At your father's funeral?"

He sighed and turned her around in his arms, watching the display behind the glass as he rested his chin on her shoulder. "We blamed each other. He blamed me for giving my dad too much trouble and too much attitude, I blamed him for not being there...not helping him. Helping us. He was supposed to be his best friend but he left my father...my family alone when we needed him the most." He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Olivia's neck. "We watched him deteriorate, waste away, and Hank...never came to see him. Not once."

"You never stopped to think that maybe I couldn't handle it?" Hank's voice sawed through the room from the metal door. "Elliot, I was battling my own demons, I couldn't take watching the strongest person I knew fade away like that. I'm sorry you feel like I left you there to handle it alone, but you...you had the rest of your family. I…" he cleared his throat. "I was the one facing it by myself."

Elliot shook his head. "If you had just stayed...none of us would have felt alone." He let go of Olivia and moved toward Hank. "I don't…" he pressed his lips together. "I'm sorry."

Hank nodded once and pulled Elliot into a hug, one that held so much time and history and healing. "He…" he stopped and pushed Elliot away. "He said he didn't know anyone was out for blood. He didn't bring this on intentionally and no one in your unit had a hand in it." He scratched a spot behind his ear. "You...you don't have anything to worry about now, I, uh...I got the asshole."

"Who?" Elliot spat, his eyes narrow. "We have a right to know who thought we were the best way to hurt Cragen?" He shook his head and scoffed. "His name?"

Voight took a step closer, closed the door behind him, and said, "Peter O'Farrell."

Elliot's eyes widened as Olivia's screwed up in confusion. "That...how did he...but that was…"

"Who the hell is that?" Olivia asked, stepping up to Elliot.

Elliot turned, his face twisted in a scowl. "Cragen's first CO. His...mentor. There was a...a, um, a thing…"

"Elliot," Olivia prodded. "Just tell me." She ran a hand down his arm, but as she saw his face fall, she looked to Voight.

Hank folded his arms. "Back when Don headed up Homicide at the Two-Seven, he was implicated in a series of incidents...corruption. His team worked their asses off to clear him, but as a result...found enough evidence to pin it all on O'Farrell. The man was dirty as sin, I mean...bribes, tampering with evidence, murder for hire…" he waved a hand and coughed once. "When it was time to corner the son of a bitch, it fell on Don to do the honors. He was wired, it was a sting op that brought down a friend."

Elliot nodded and licked his lips. "He never forgave himself. He always felt so guilty. He told me...when I got this job, he told me to keep my distance and to put very little faith in the people I had to work with because...this shit happens." He glanced at Olivia and grinned. "I'm pretty sure he didn't mean you."

Olivia smiled at him but then asked Voight, "So, what, O'Farrell got out? Wanted revenge?"

Voight shrugged. "Cragen took his freedom, his family...his life. Guess he thought that once he could, he'd do the same. He was planning on killing the two of you and framing Don." He ran a hand down his face. "Ed wasn't gonna let that happen. Neither was I."

The door behind Voight opened and Ed Tucker walked into the small put with Cragen right behind him. There was a tense silence, eyes flitting from face to face, until finally Cragen ran and wrapped one arm around Elliot and the other around Olivia, pulling them into a hard hug.

Voight looked over toward Tucker and grinned. "Guess we know why O'Farrell assumed taking them out would've been the best way to hurt him, huh?"

Tucker leaned up against the door. "Trust me, if anything ever happened to either of them, the entire fucking city would feel it." He slapped Voight on the back and chuckled, and as he tugged his sleeves down, he said, "Did you, uh, do what you really came here to do?"

Voight nodded, then jutted his chin toward the three other people in the room. He pulled on the sleeves of his leather jacket and kicked himself off of the wall. He met Elliot's eyes and said, "Listen, I, uh...I'm only a phone call away if you...if you ever need anything." He headed for the door but Elliot's arm held him back. He felt himself being pulled into a hug of his own, shorter but just as emotional as the one they'd shared before, and he closed his eyes in relief. "Take care of her," he whispered to Elliot.

With a laugh, Elliot pulled back from Voight as he nodded. "Always," he said. He watched Hank leave, taking with him years of regret and remorse, and he turned around to look back at Olivia.

He remembered the first time they met, how quickly she'd proven her worth. He remembered how she just handed him an eleven thousand dollar comic book without hesitation, how she so warmly took to his kids and his mother. Every part of himself that was broken or missing was fixed and replaced by the bits of her that she so willingly gave to him. He moved fast, taking her left hand in his, and he looked down at the ring on her finger.

"El?" She looked up at him, a question in her eyes.

He smiled, shook his head, and whispered, "I love you," and kissed her once. "We, uh...we should get home." He looked at Cragen. "Now that this is, um, over...the kids should…"

"Yeah, of course," Cragen smiled and nodded at them, and he watched as they kissed again and walked out of the room. He noticed the ring, the sparkle on Olivia's hand matched the one in her eyes, and he shot a look toward Tucker. "We need to talk about that, now, don't we?"

Tucker narrowed his eyes, shook his head, and said, "Nothing to talk about. Unless they cause issues, nothing they're…"

"Okay," Cragen smoothed out the front of his shirt and sighed. "Thanks."

"I'm not doing it for you," Tucker told him, and he walked out, following the same path Voight, Olivia, and Elliot had taken, and he hoped that things would calm down and get back to normal. He looked around the squadroom, spotting Jeffries on the phone and stifling a yawn. He briefly wondered if she was officially cleared for duty; he couldn't remember signing off on anything. He eyed Munch, who was flipping through a file and shaking his head. And then he dropped his gaze to the two empty desks that belonged to the most frustratingly dynamic team he'd ever worked with, and he smiled.

Cragen, from behind him, said, "You can't picture anyone else sitting there, either, can you?"

Tucker shook his head as he left the room, hoping he would never have to do that. He squinted as he walked down the hall, surprised to see Elliot and Olivia standing by the elevator. "What are you still doing here?"

Olivia looked over at Tucker with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. "I just...I just checked my messages. We've been so wrapped up in this, I…"

"She had one from her doctor," Elliot interrupted, wiping his own eyes as he laughed through his words. "She, uh…"

"We're...I'm…" she stumbled, trying to make sense of it in her head. It was the one thing she felt her life would always be missing, the one experience she would never get to have. Until she met Elliot, it was a dream deferred. "Ed, I'm pregnant."

Tucker's eyes widened and he slowly turned to look at Elliot's face. The joy and pride were clear and he never saw him smile like that. "Wow, uh, con...congratulations." He slapped Elliot's shoulder and took a deep breath. "That is...incredible."

"Yeah," Elliot breathed out on a crying laugh. "God, it really is." He brushed his thumb under Olivia's left eye. "I just...I thought we were actually going to get married before she…" he shrugged. "She hasn't been off the pill that long, and we only decided to try about a…"

"Stabler," Tucker held up a hand, "Spare me." He laughed and said, "I'm happy for you. This is...you both deserve this." He winked at Olivia and moved to the side, hitting the call button on the wall. "Go home. Celebrate." He held out a hand as the doors opened and he watched them get in, kissing as the doors slid shut. With a hard and heavy sigh, Tucker turned to take the stairs, smiling.

 **A/N: one more chapter left, and then…?**


	50. Chapter 50

**A/N:** _ **Blinding light illuminates the scene. Try to fill "The Spaces In Between" - How to Destroy Angels**_

 **DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and its characters. TStabler© owns the narrative, dialogue, and plot of this story.**

He looked around the living room, empty as it was, and the memories started playing back like 35 millimeter reels. Static riddled and out of focus, he saw his children crawling around on the carpet and stumbling as they tried to stand and walk. He chuckled, remembering the twins grabbing onto each other as they fell. He blinked once and the movie faded into a black and white montage. Fights he had with Kathy, thrown photo frames and broken vases, the sounds of slamming doors and whispered curses echoed in his ears.

He blinked again, this time not laughing at all, and suddenly the room grew bright. Vivid technicolor with an upbeat soundtrack that sounded like his favorite song. He saw Olivia, playing with his kids, reading to them, watching a movie with them on the couch. He smiled as he remembered the million ways she got to him, reached into him and pulled out things that he'd buried and burned so long ago, the way she dusted him off and restored the charred bits to full glory. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling, remembering the way it felt when he kissed her for the first time.

He recalled how sweaty his palms had been, how his heart had been beating so fast he'd thought he was having a heart attack, how his lips had burned and tingled and went numb but every other part of his body was on fire and hyper-sensitive. He remembered how he could barely feel her couch beneath him because he'd felt like he was floating, flying. He licked his lips, snapping out of his Blockbuster marathon of his life, and he moved fast, racing up the stairs.

As he took them, one by one, the memories played faster, in shorter clips. Moments where Olivia had saved his ass, nights in bed where she'd made him feel everything he ever had at once, and things he'd never felt before, and the movie halted and froze on a still image of them in their pajamas, hand in hand, tears in their eyes, staring down at a diamond ring on her finger. It faded to black as he brought himself back into the present.

He inhaled and slowly pushed his bedroom door open, seeing her body coming into view. "Hey, Kid," he quipped, walking toward her.

She looked up from her book, laid it down on her stomach as she smiled at him, and said, "Hey, yourself."

He said nothing as he stepped closer and crawled onto the bed. He kneed his way over to her as he pulled his shirt off over his head . He smirked when he heard her moan, taking a lot of pride in it. He grabbed her book and tossed it off the bed completely, not concerned that the page was lost or the binding was bent. He hunched himself over and kissed her, the same spark igniting as it had the first time his lips touched hers.

She gasped, whimpering slightly when he ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and when she opened to him, she groaned from someplace low and deep within her. She felt his hands slipping under her shirt and they broke apart for only a second so he could rip the cotton off of her completely.

Her arms wrapped around him almost as soon as he reattached himself to her, but the intensity was something that stunned her. She moaned his name into his mouth and felt her heart jerk when his hands slid down her body to her stomach.

Once his palms were resting on her belly, he slowed his kiss, deepened it, made more of it. He pulled back slightly and dropped his head to hers. "I love you," he whispered to her, breathing heavily, heat hitting her reddened lips. "I love you so much. Everything you are, everything you've been and everything you will be...I love you. And I love this...this little life that…" he let out a slight laugh, a single scoff as he choked up and tried to swallow his emotion. "God, we're having a baby. You and me. Fuck, I remember when I could barely stand to be in the same room with you because I was afraid you'd start talking about what's his name."

She squinted as she looked into his eyes. "Who?"

Narrowing his own stare, he smirked. He'd made her forget all about Scott after all. "Exactly," he chuckled, and he drew circles over her belly button with two of his fingers. "You've given me...a life I never thought I'd have."

"You're preaching to the choir, Stabler," she almost giggled as she shifted her weight beneath him and nuzzled his nose. "I was convinced I'd end up single and childless, until I met you. Then you...turned my world upside-fucking-down, didn't you?" She kissed the end of his nose and moaned softly. His hands were causing stirrings and shooting shocks through her system. "I kept trying to keep you at arm's length because I thought…"

"I am a stubborn son of a bitch, Kid. I wanted you. I got you." He kissed her softly. "I am never letting you go." He dragged his hands lower, taking the elastic of her pajama pants with them as they moved. He grunted when he yanked them hard, and then rose to his knees to toss them over his head. He looked down and whistled at her, winking, and said, "You are…" he shook his head, at a loss for words, and he remembered telling her about his mother, his father, his childhood...how she didn't turn away or run for the hills and instead, let him into the darkness of her youth and told him things she'd always pretended never happened. They were each other's solace, and he ran his eyes back up to meet hers as he silently promised that it's what they would always be.

He shoved off his sweatpants and kicked them away, finally finishing his sentence. "The most beautiful woman in the world."

She reached for him, blinking away the tears that threatened to form before they could, and she whispered, "Kiss me."

He moaned as he did so, closing his eyes and living fully in the moment, letting it consume him. The woman in his arms, the woman he was about to make love to, had been exactly what he was missing. The final piece to the puzzle that made his life feel so incomplete. She had reached parts of him and rekindled the spirit he'd ignored, left unimportant, and he never wanted to know what life was like without her again. Losing her now would kill him, destroy him. "Promise me," he whispered, nudging her thighs apart with his knee.

She moaned, feeling him press into her. "Promise you what?"

He kissed her chin, down her neck, and let his mouth hover over her rapid pulse as he lined himself up and readied to slide home. "Love me, the way I know you do now," he breathed as he watched her throat twitch and throb in a frantic beat. "Forever."

"God, I promise," she told him, raking her nails through his hair. She gave a whispered scream of his name when he bit down on her and thrust into her at the same time. She knew why he needed to hear her promise something she'd already sworn to do. It was an easy promise to make because she had never been more certain of anything in her life. He had given her a reason to live when she thought she'd never find one. He'd made every abandoned dream come true, along with ones she never dared to dream in the first place because they'd seemed so out of reach.

"I love you," she whispered, and she arched her back to meet his eager and deep thrusts.

"Fuck, I love you, too, Kid," he said to her, and he skimmed his lips up her skin to latch onto her lips, moving harder and even deeper. He loved her now the way he always had and always would: filling all of the neglected space.

 **A/N: The end. Hopefully, I didn't neglect anything.**


End file.
